Lost Soldiers, Dark Deals, Lawful Justice Denied
by Shadow Master
Summary: (BtVS/Crysis/Ghost in the Shell:tSAC/Halo/Metal Gear/Terminator:tSCC/Stargate SG-1) There is a practice amongst most professions dealing in death that you don't assume anything's dead until you confirm it for certain. Sound advice for the SGC
1. Chapter 1

"Lost Soldiers, Dark Deals, Lawful Justice Denied" By Shadow Master

(BtVS/Crysis/Halo/Ghost in the Shell:tSAC/Metal Gear/Terminator:tSCC/SG1)

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the copyrighted material contained herein. They are the rightful property of their respective creators and associated companies. I make no profit off of this fanfic whatsoever and have no intention of changing this in the future. I write because it's fun and because there are those who enjoy reading my work. Therefore I would appreciate it if the people possessing the copyrights/licenses/etc for these shows/games/anime would refrain from taking legal action against me. I can promise them that whatever legal action they take against me won't get them enough to cover even a fifth of their legal fees.

Note 1: This takes place primarily in the merged reality of Stargate SG-1 and BtVS. It occurs in the year 2008 five years after the end of BtVS season 7 and one year after the events of season 10 of Stargate SG-1. As for the other elements mentioned above they will all be utilized in whatever way will best serve the storyline.

Note 2: Aside from a few elements/variables/attributes I will be completely ignoring BtVS season 8 and its plot. I've heard enough about its plot and how the various characters have changed since season 7 and I am not impressed.

Note 3: As always anyone who despises/hates/cannot-STAND deviations from canon in any way whatsoever should press the back button on their web browser immediately. While I will do my best to stay as close to canon as possible I will not let canon get in the way of telling the story that I want to tell PERIOD.

_Lost Soldiers, Dark Deals, Lawful Justice Denied_

_**Farrow-Marshall Aeronautics R&amp;D Facility, Supposedly Abandoned**_

_**Northern Tip of the Rocky Mountains, British Columbia, Canada**_

_**Doctor Clark Drago's POV**_

_I'm gonna die. _ He waited for the elevator to reach ground level. _It's just that simple. Even with all of the Goa'uld technology and other off world acquisitions, I haven't produced anything substantial in over a year. She's gonna kill me! _

It wasn't an easy thing being an employee of Farrow-Marshall Aeronautics, especially after the capture of their boss Ba'al at the hands of the SGC and the law-abiding NID. Since then their new boss, the Goa'uld Athena, had been extra careful to keep her whereabouts on a need to know basis and relocated some of the more important assets to facilities that were off the grid. However the woman had made it clear in her bimonthly division vid-conferences that she wanted 'impressive' advancements from all departments within the next five years. No one bothered to ask the question of what'd happen to them if they didn't because, even before Ba'al's former second in command became their employer, it was common knowledge that no one quit; they had their employment 'terminated', with many suspecting their lives as well.

So no one even mentioned that they wanted to 'resign' or anything about not being able to do what'd been asked of them since both would get them buried in unmarked graves. Whether they'd be dead when they were put in those unmarked graves was a thought he didn't want to contemplate in the least.

The task that he'd been given was to develop new cybernetic implants that could be put into soldiers, allowing them to become superior to anything the current global super powers had available. He'd been given full access to every scrap of data and tech that the company had, with new stuff coming in every so often so that in the beginning he'd been sure that he could come up with something. He'd tried using the crystal tech found in Goa'uld hardware to completely replaces microchips and the liquid naquadah used in most staff weapons as power sources. Initially it'd been promising when he'd started with simply creating advanced prosthetic arms or legs that could replace limbs lost by civilians, allowing them to resume normal lives. However, when he tried to increase what the implants could do to superhuman levels, he began to encounter difficulties. The more he tried to make them do, the thicker he needed the overall skeleton and frame to be in order to keep from being turned to junk after the first blow. Eventually it'd gotten to the point where it'd be impossible to disguise them as ordinary human limbs, thus eliminating them from consideration for undercover operations.

When he'd initially implied this to Athena during one of the conferences, she'd made it clear this was NOT acceptable and to find a way. The only thing that'd given him hope was that she hadn't completely rejected the larger limbs, making him think they'd be employed when the time for subtlety was at an end.

As a result he had worked tirelessly to find a way to keep the prosthetics proportional to the rest of the human body but still capable of doing more. He'd looked everywhere for inspiration, anywhere in which strength was achieved through means other than making things thicker, but sadly he was quickly reaching the end of his list of possibilities. There was always some flaw, some shortcoming, that rendered the ideas born of moments of epiphany useless and, unless he was really lucky, today might be the day his luck ran out. Athena had contacted the facility's administrator two hours ago to say that she was coming for an inspection and so he'd been chosen to be the 'guide' to show her around.

He wasn't fooled.

The director didn't assign him this task out of the goodness of his heard but rather to be the fall guy if Athena wasn't satisfied with what she saw. While not as certain, the Goa'uld definitely went to the Darth Vader school of employee management, wherein failure was all too often punishable by immediate death. It was all about providing people with incentive to work harder and knowing that you could be the next person to become Athena's visual aid to the rest of the staff did indeed work wonders.

Except for Thompson, who, after hitting a mind block on his soldier enhancement serum, committed suicide before Athena could do anything horrible to him.

The morbidly funny part of it all was that his latest formula actually did wind up boosting the test subject's physical abilities by fifteen percent, even if that was only for ten minutes.

In his case, though, he didn't have anything even close to being 'interesting' or 'promising' in his lab so he was pretty sure he was going to be dead before the day was out. Most people would be trying to escape at this point or thinking up ways to shift the blame for a lack of results to someone else, but he was oddly calmer than he should've been. He supposed that he was calmer because there was little hope and he knew it. It was the concept, the belief, that there was some way out of certain death that caused a lot of people to freak out but, thanks to past failures on the part of his colleagues, he knew there was no way out.

That didn't mean he wanted to die, so that'd explain why he wasn't completely calm.

As the doors to the elevator opened, he strode towards the front doors of the main building of the facility, peripherally aware as they opened automatically, then looked up to see Athena's personal helicopter descending towards the helipad. Taking a moment to straighten his clothes and take on the appearance of someone NOT expecting to be executed in less than a day, he walked up as soon as the propeller started to slow down. Seeing the side door to the craft slide open, he immediately saw the blonde haired woman known to the public at large as Charlotte Mayfield but who in reality was merely the host for the symbiote Athena. Getting out next to her was her loyal bodyguards Smith and Wesker, neither of who were human in his opinion but who could kill someone in a single lightning fast move. More often then not they were the ones who made examples of the employees who failed Athena but, when she was especially displeased, she did the job herself.

It was debatable which executioner was preferable.

"Mistress Athena," he said as he went down on one knee before her. "I trust your trip was comfortable?"

Yes he knew that scientifically the Goa'uld symbiote wasn't a god and that rationally he shouldn't be treating her like she was but in his opinion, if it kept him alive for five minutes longer, he'd lick her crap-covered shoes.

"As much as could be expected given that I am forced to HIDE from the rest of the world," Athena said in the odd dual voice that all Goa'uld preferred to use when inside a host. "Fortunately I have discovered a means to expedite the end of my seclusion."

Looking up in interest at his employer's statement, he noticed someone else step out of the chopper and he did not look like one of Athena's usual employees. With black hair that had some silver on the sides was a man who looked both amused by his current circumstances and at the same time worried. With a red dress shirt and cargo pants, the unknown man reached back into the chopper to pick up a sizeable looking crate that looked moderately heavy. He wondered why one of the bodyguards didn't carry it if the man was Athena's guest but dismissed such thoughts since it was ultimately none of his business.

"Escort Mister Rayne to Doctor MacDonald's former lab, Wesker," Athena ordered with an imperious tone. "Make sure he makes himself at home."

"Yes, mistress," Wesker said with a rigid nod before looking at the newcomer Rayne from behind his dark sunglasses.

Seeing the fear spike in Rayne's eyes, he'd bet good money that he'd been shown a very potent reason why defiance would not be tolerated.

Whether or not he'd see any hint of it on the news was debatable.

Standing back up, he gestured for his employer to precede him back into the facility since he'd seen what'd happened to those who tried to go ahead of her.

It had taken janitorial _weeks_ to clean all of the mess up.

"How fairs your cybernetics research, Doctor Drago?" Athena asked like a queen would inquire of her subject after they'd entered the elevator.

"I… I wish I had better news, mistress, but even with all that you have so graciously provided, I am having difficulty producing a prototype that meets your requirements," he replied, deciding that if he was going to die it'd be an honest death. "If a new metal alloy could be developed that possessed the strength of titanium at a fifth of accepted thickness, I could do much. However with what I have… I fear it may be some time before I can make what you ask of me."

When a smile blossomed on her face rather than a scowl of discontent, his fear spiked since it could only mean that the end she planned for him would amuse her greatly.

"Normally I would punish such unsatisfactory results, doctor, but fortunately for you Mister Rayne may soon provide you with all that you require." Athena said as the doors opened to the sublevel containing the first of her special projects. "However first he will require some… materials… and their procurement will require weaponry above what is readily available to the mercenaries of this world. Let us see if Doctor Emerson has succeeded to my satisfaction."

_There is a god and he must like me! _He thought with great joy. _I won't be killed! _

Not yet, at least.

_**Approaching the Former Lab of the Late Doctor MacDonald, Two Hours Later, Athena's POV**_

_Ahhhh! There is just something so relaxing about randomly killing an underling! _ she thought as she finished using her handkerchief to wipe off the speck of blood on her blazer. _I'll miss it when I'm ruler of this world. _

True, she was actually quite pleased with the results her employees at this facility had managed to accomplish since the last meeting, especially Doctor Emerson, but praising them would only rob them of the motivation that produced such progress. They would need that motivation should the human Ethan Rayne succeed in delivering what he promised for they would then have access to technology that at the moment existed only in fiction.

Watching as her bodyguard Smith pushed open the doors to the lab, she entered to find Rayne unpacking the crate of supplies he'd insisted on acquiring before departing for this facility. Wesker, of course, was keeping a close eye on the man in order to ensure there were no slight of hand escapes or suspicious incantations.

At first she had been as dismissive of the existence of demons and magic as the rest of the Tauri but her encounter with a creature that fit the description of a vampire changed all that. That had been a year ago and since then she'd spent her time in hiding, more constructively investigating the new side of the world. It baffled her why none of the other System Lords had ever mentioned this side of Earth before since many of the so-called demons could have proven quite useful in their conquest of the galaxy. She could only presume that Ra or another powerful system lord had already tried to utilize them, failed and gone to great lengths to discourage any further experimentation.

It was during the course of her investigations that she heard a tale of a chaos mage who'd used his abilities to cast a spell over an entire town causing all who clad themselves in clothes he provided to become what they pretended to be. Powers, knowledge and personality were all thrust into unsuspecting host bodies, resulting in several hours of unrestrained chaos. If the tale was to be believed then it mattered not how powerful the fictional being was in the end and the only shortcoming was the fact that the spell was designed to end at dawn. Her host had numerous memories of the various fictional characters and creatures that had been spawned from the minds of Earth's citizens, all of which made her mind boggle at the possibilities if they were made real. Thus she had devoted considerable resources to the locating and apprehension of the man responsible for the spell but with special instructions that he was not to be harmed.

It complicated things a bit when she discovered he'd been imprisoned but fortunately there were always people who did stupid things that could be held against them, thus forcing them to do what she wanted.

It'd been with some gratification that she smiled when vid-conference window opened up on her computer screen showing both the unlucky guard and Mister Rayne. With years of experience in making deals through her host she approached him with a deal: cast the spell again but make the changes more permanent and she would make him fifty million dollars richer. She'd expected him to agree immediately since greed truly was universal and on Earth fifty million dollars could go a long way, but instead he had the gall to decline her offer. Oh, he'd been polite about it and had tried to part company with her on amiable terms but she was not a being that took 'NO' for an answer.

Fortunately the guard she'd blackmailed into releasing Rayne was concerned enough about what she could do to him and those he cared for that 'educating' the prisoner was preferable to the alternative.

The chaos mage proved to be quite a bit more reasonable after that demonstration.

After that they'd had to do some travelling to various locations around the world in order to gather the necessary ingredients for what she wanted done. Ethan had made it clear that in order to make the changes more permanent they would need higher quality components than what he'd used the last time AND they'd have to persuade Janus to increase his energy contribution. She hadn't been and still wasn't worried about that. If this true god Janus was anything like a Goa'uld, then it would be all too easy to use his own appetites against him in order to serve her needs. Indeed if he fed off chaos like Rayne suggested, then helping her would provide him with an ongoing supply of sustenance. The being would be foolish to withhold his aid.

"I trust the lab is to your liking, Mister Rayne?" she asked as cordially as she cared to.

"Well, it is a step up from the shop I cast the spell in last time," Rayne replied as he finished unpacking the things he would need. "It's fortunate that you chose to enlist my services so close to Halloween, my dear. While Janus could technically empower this spell at any time, All Hallows Eve allows for much greater flexibility and potential where he is concerned."

"I thought as much. How long before you can begin?"

"I will be able to begin preliminary preparations immediately but the spell itself requires that I stick to a specific schedule to achieve maximum effect. Once the ingredients are properly mixed, they tend to go bad within a day or two." He glanced at the various bottles and containers sitting on a nearby table, "I would suggest that we acquire the materials I mentioned earlier, as well as a few other things first. Once they are safely secured here everything should run smoothly from then on."

"That should be easy enough," she said, recalling what Doctor Emerson showed her. "My weapons R&amp;D head showed me some rather impressive hardware earlier. It should be more than enough to acquire what you seek."

"While normally I would never dream to naysay a lady such as yourself, Miss Mayfield, I would recommend against underestimating the targets. Many before you have thought them little challenge and… let's just say they're a head shorter at the moment," he said, trying to convey warning without provoking.

"Your concern is noted, Mister Rayne," she said only mildly, taking his words seriously. "I shall make sure to pass it along to the operatives I assign to the task of procuring the materials. Provided the information you provided about them is accurate, they will have little if any time to retaliate."

"I assure you that I have given you all that I know about them and their methods," he said with surprisingly genuine honesty. "As for the other things I mentioned, here's a list. I chose them both because they should suit your needs nicely and because it will provide you with a means of controlling your new soldiers afterwards. Each has an Achilles heel that only you will be able to help them with, provided your scientists can successfully reverse engineer the technology I will provide them with."

"Thanks to the efforts of my predecessor and myself, Farrow-Marshall Aeronautics has some of the most brilliant and ethically flexible minds on the planet, Mister Rayne. They also know well the price of failure. Reverse engineering what you will be providing will be well within their abilities."

"Well then I guess we have some busy days ahead of us," he said with a cooperative smile. "Now if you'll excuse me, I must get to work if all is to be ready by the thirty-first."

"Of course. Wesker will see to any needs you may have during your stay and will allow you to contact me should the need arise," she said, implying that he would be watched constantly. "Good day, Mister Rayne."

Once they were out of the lab and down the hall, she dropped the polite employer façade and brought forth her true self; the one that would bring about the rebirth of the Goa'uld System Lords, with her as the supreme ruler!

"Inform security that Rayne's every movement is to be closely monitored AT ALL TIMES," she ordered Smith as they walked down the hall. "Every person who knew of him indicated that he is cunning, self-serving and deceitful. I care not what happens to him after he completes his task but I will not have him deserting beforehand."

"You do not believe the cash incentive you provided will be enough?" Smith asked with his professional tone.

"For most it would be but I suspect Rayne is the sort who refuses to bow down to anyone," she replied without looking at her bodyguard. "So long as he believes he is in the superior position, he will do as asked. However if he believes he is a prisoner or, worse, a slave, he will attempt to prove otherwise in as showy a way as possible."

"Understood," Smith said before taking out his cell phone to contact security.

_That's what I like about Wesker and Smith. _ _So long as I let them indulge in their appetites from time to time, they are more loyal than any Jaffa I've ever had. More effective as well, given their demonic abilities. _

Whether she would keep them around once the new 'prototypes' were finished all depended on how well they faired during the test trials. If her new soldiers proved to be superior enough, she would have to re-evaluate Wesker and Smith's employment status. After all, why keep last years models around if the new and improved versions turned out to be vastly superior in every relevant way possible?

Time would tell.

_**Two Days Before Halloween**_

_**High Above Rio de Janeiro, Brazil**_

_**Transall C-160**_

"Alright. You've been briefed on the target and her abilities. We have an accurate account of all persons within the building and the defenses of that building," the Team Leader said as they prepped for H.A.L.O. insertion. "We're not here to start a war and excess collateral damage will not be tolerated. We get in, acquire the package and get out with no one the wiser. You've got tranq rounds specifically brewed to put everyone inside the building, including the target, to sleep for a minimum of forty-eight hours. Use them. Any one of you gets too freaky with the live rounds and you'll answer to HER."

No member of the team was stupid enough to get HER mad at them if they could avoid it.

The team had done enough jobs for HER to know that not only was she not to be fucked with but also paid well for quality work. With that in mind all of them checked their gear to make sure that everything was as it should be just before the green light switched on. That meant that they were three minutes from their drop point so they lined up in front of the rear hatch while the team leader pressed the button to open it. All of them were clad in standard HALO gear but their weapons looked decidedly more high tech than what most soldiers would be equipped with. However those weapons were options of last resort if a surgical extraction proved impossible and the only way to accomplish the mission was to terminate the opposition. While their employer hadn't been all that caring before when it came to a body count, this time was different. It'd been implied that if they made too big a stink it would cause the organization the target belonged to go aggressively on the offensive, thus complicating phases two through four of the mission. They didn't ask for details but rather simply factored that into the mission plan and preparations to maximize the odds of success.

The second the green light began to blink off and on they dove one by one off the edge of the hatch, streamlining their bodies just like they'd done hundreds of times before. Thanks to the tech their employer provided, a HUD popped up on their visors showing the LZ as well as the coverage area for the building's external security set up. It was pretty impressive for a non-government compound but it still wouldn't be enough to keep them out or provide advance notice to the target. With only a little adjustment to make sure all of them were inside the drop corridor, they waited until they reached twenty-five hundred before pulling the cord on their parachutes, causing their black chutes to deploy. Blending in perfectly with the night sky they descended until the HUD switched automatically to thermal vision, letting them see the sentries patrolling the perimeter as well as the roof of the building.

With a double tap of the communications device by the team leader, all brought their specially designed tranq guns that were capable of single shot, bursts and full auto up. Choosing single shot, they took careful aim at each sentry with direct line of sight to the LZ and fired, dropping each one like clockwork.

The second they touched down they stripped off their HALO gear and proceeded to the part of the house intel said the target would be at this time of night. Fortunately it was on the top floor so it would make entry easier than it would've been getting to the ground then getting inside. Once they were above the correct room, the second in command took a piece of tech out that looked like a manhole cover sized version of what they normally used to cut through glass. Placing it precisely on the ground, all it took was the press of a button to cause the points of contact to go bright red before spinning twice. With expert timing the cover was removed and the rest of the team dropped through the hole one after another, quickly spotting their target in bed with a young woman mentioned in the briefing file. Not that it particularly mattered as all but one of the team fired their tranq guns at both women with the intent of putting them to sleep.

Unlike the others, though, the team leader had been given an extra piece of information about the target and knew that mere darts would be ineffective. Instead he activated a device hooked on his belt that began to emit a sonic frequency completely inaudible to human ears but designed to force whoever was within range into a deep REM state. The team's communications equipment possessed the means to protect them from the device but only them. As a result, while the target used some unusual ability to stop the darts in mid-air, she was blindsided by the sonic attack, resulting in unconsciousness.

As soon as they were certain that the target was asleep, a sedative was administered in order to keep her that way for the desired forty-eight hours. After suitable bindings were employed, the team leader threw the target over her shoulder while his team formed a protective ring around him. As one they moved to the window with the two team members in front crashing through the window and securing the immediate area around the ground so that the others could follow. They all knew that the sound of shattering glass would alert the sentries that hadn't been put to sleep so they immediately moved towards the outer wall with the one furthest in front, tossing a demo pack at it.

With a hole blown in the wall, they had little problem getting to the street beyond and then, just like clockwork, their getaway vehicle came tearing around the corner so fast their tires screeched. As it came to a stop the side door opened and, while the package was placed inside, the rest of the team began to lay down cover fire as the sentries arrived on the scene. While the defenders were increasingly shocked at the speed and agility of the sentries, they had the benefit of knowing where they'd be coming from. With the narrow opening in the wall all they had to do was fill it with darts and the opposition remained pinned down. As for those that leapt over the wall somehow, they made a poor choice since, once a person was airborne, dodging ceases to be an option. A single tranq dart for each one that tried and there was another sleeping person on the sidewalk.

One by one they got into the vehicle and, with the last one in tossing a steel gray sphere with white lines criss-crossing it, the job was done. The sphere unleashed a combination of sonics and bright lights that put every flash bang grenade to shame, causing those within range to drop like puppets that'd had their strings cut. All in all it was a pretty smooth operation with zero casualties on both sides, as well as a clear shot to the local airport where their client had a private jet prepped and ready for take off.

Within the hour they'd be airborne and in the clear.

If teams Beta, Delta and Echo experienced the same luck, then they'd definitely be getting a bonus at the end of this job.

Indeed the other teams that made up the mercenary group experienced much the same luck as the first one did. Whether it was because their targets were used to fighting enemies more primitive in nature or simply because they'd never considered that a well equipped team of soldiers could take them down, each target was successfully acquired.

In Rome the target and her sister were acquired coming out of a nightclub with gas rigged to be released from every storm drain, vent and manhole cover within a two block radius of the club. It was determined that conventional means of acquiring the target would not work since the subject was the most experienced combatant of the organization she was a part of. Therefore a carpet bomb method using knockout gas to saturate the entire area with a formula designed to not only be breathed in but capable of being absorbed through the skin. Even with the speed the subject was capable of, it'd be impossible to escape getting the required amount into her system. Proceeding with caution, they approached the last known position of their target and thankfully they didn't have to sift through a pile of bystanders to do it. Once both were in restraints they slipped into a fairly forgettable looking van and drove off before the police even got halfway to the club.

In England, Delta team was surprised and a bit impressed by the target given that the man was old enough to be someone's grandfather. Whether it was due to experience or luck, the old man managed to put up something of a fight before they managed to take him down with some sort of hi-tech tazer gun. They'd been a bit worried that given the guy's age he might've been killed but, after checking his vitals, they found that he was still alive with minimal damage. Two members of the team had to shake their heads in respect and compare the guy to their drill instructors back in basic, given how tough the guy was.

The final target was harder to find than the others since he was apparently always on the move, going from location to location, but fortunately there was a way to make the target come to them. All they had to do was put out rumors of a teenage girl with superhuman abilities and he came right into their trap. The twenty-something young man had come with two escorts but they proved to be little help against four trained snipers with accuracy ratings that made it clear they earned their paychecks. Three trigger pulls later and all three were down, making it easy for them to put their target in restraints, load him into their VTOL and set course for the drop off point.

It all went like clockwork with each operation being executed at the exact same time at each location, thus making it impossible for any warnings to successfully reach their targets. If the info in their mission briefing was to be believed, it'd be at least twelve hours before the organization that connected the targets together would even have a clue where to look.

Their employer would be pleased.

_**Rocky Mountain Facility, Two Days Later, Xander's POV**_

"Ooohhh… definitely gonna kick the ass of whoever knocked me out," he mumbled as he regained consciousness.

His mind and his body were still sluggish due to whatever had been used to knock him out and there was a bad taste in his mouth that reminded him of some of his more serious hospital stays. It meant that whatever they'd used on him had been damn potent and possibly meant more for the Slayers he'd brought with him to find the new Awakened. Some would say the fact that he and his entire team had been taken down meant that it'd been a trap and therefore, while it was likely that there had never been an Awakened in the first place, he wasn't so quick to discount the alternative. It was entirely possible that there had been a new Slayer in that area and whoever knocked him and his team out simply got there first then set up the trap. Either way he saw much butt kicking in the future and, depending on the state of his girls, it might be very bloody indeed.

"Feel free to try, lad, but I doubt you'll want to once all is said and done," came the voice of someone he hadn't seen in many years.

Opening his eye, he immediately found something amiss as someone had put some kind of red glass visor over his eyes and, after he focused hard enough, he could tell that the visor was a part of a mask or helmet. Moving his head left and then right took quite a bit of effort but eventually he found who he sought in the center of the room setting something up that he couldn't quite see.

"Ethan Rayne. Certainly didn't expect you to be the one behind this," he said as he tried to see all that he could see. "You don't usually bother with tranq darts and forced conscription like this. Too planned out."

"Oh, this isn't my little game, young man," Ethan said, standing up from what he'd been working on. "I'm merely a hired hand being asked to do a job and being paid rather handsomely for it at the same time. True, it was I that suggested possible 'volunteers' for the project so I guess your being here is partially my doing. I so do LOVE sequels!"

Testing his limbs to see how much free reign he'd been given, he unfortunately found himself quite pinned down at the ankles, wrists, neck and waist, so at least the mastermind wasn't taking him lightly. Not that he focused on that alone, though, since he could feel that whatever chair he was in was molded specifically to follow the contours of the human body roughly. It wasn't specifically tailored to him, of course, but it only had enough material to support the torso, the limbs and the head.

"You do realize that sequels need to be bigger and badder than the original movie, right? Giles said he beat you bloody during your little bit of fun in Sunnydale," he said, figuring this had to be a repeat of the Halloween spell. "This time around you'd better hope that Buffy or Willow come along to hold him back or I'm seeing a visit to the ICU in your future."

When the chaos-loving Brit started to chuckle, he knew that was not a good sign because either it meant that the old man had a sure fire escape plan or did not believe in the least that the Scoobies would be able to make good on punishing him. Rayne was a slippery asshole so it was entirely possible that he had an effective means of getting away, so he'd have to keep his eyes and ears peeled. If Ethan was cocky then he'd get careless and that would be when he'd get what he needed in order to either turn the tables or allow the gang to catch up with the bastard.

"Oh, I imagine they'll be arriving sooner than you think!" Ethan said, sounding quite amused. "Though you may find them to be less than helpful."

_Definitely has an ace up his sleeve or whoever hired him managed to impress him somehow. _

"So… is there a point to all this?" he asked, deciding to keep the conversation going. "According to Giles' research, this spell turns itself off at sunrise and, aside from me getting a smattering of military know how, there were no lasting side effects."

"True. The standard spell I used all those years ago is relatively short in duration and harmless to those involved," Ethan said before walking out of his field of vision. "This variation, however—"

Before the Brit could say more the door to the room opened and thankfully it was within his field of vision. Three people entered the room and, based on what he saw, it was the blonde woman in the center wearing an expensive business suit who was in charge. The men on either side of her were obvious bodyguards given their stern expressions and large muscled size but he'd have to wait to see what weapons they were packing before determining a threat level.

"I'll take it from here, Mister Rayne," the woman said with a superior, smarmy tone of voice. "YOU focus on finishing your preparations. The curtain must go up on schedule."

"Of course, my dear! Of course," Rayne said, sounding like he was doing a favor for an old friend.

"Allow me to introduce myself, Mister Harris. My name is Charlotte Mayfield, C.E.O of Farrow-Marshall Aeronautics, and to finish Mister Rayne's statement this variation of the spell you experienced so many Halloweens ago is decidedly more permanent," Charlotte said, sounding like she thought spilling the beans was a kindness on her part. "Oh, the fake personality that will take up residence in your body will only be there temporarily. All I require from the spell is the equipment of your costumed self, the hardware if you will, and an imprint of the skills necessary to utilize it since anything more than that would only complicate matters for me."

_Damn. A smart baddie! These guys are nothing but trouble. _ he thought as he realized that the woman wouldn't be as easy to overcome as some of the more cocky demon lords.

"So… what? You're a closet otaku and wanted a robo-soldier of your very own?" he asked, seeing if insulting the woman could make her mad enough to slip up.

"While on the whole I find such things to be mediocre, there are a handful of interesting ideas that intrigue me," Mayfield replied, not sounding angry in the least. "Then again should Mister Rayne's efforts prove fruitful, I will be able to see how they perform in the realm of reality rather than fiction."

For a moment he pictured Saiyan thugs, fire breathing mages and giant ray gun wielding robots trashing everything in sight. _Great. I'll never look at the stuff the same way again! _

"For now, though, a few test subjects will be needed to verify that Mister Rayne can deliver and, fortunately, he was only too happy to submit some names for consideration." Miss Mayfield said with a smile better suited to the face of a demon.

"Names?" he asked not seeing any other captives in the room besides him.

"Yes. Four more in addition to yourself," she replied, sounding pleased at his concern. "They're still with wardrobe and make up at the moment though. Creating the new them is taking some time."

"Indeed. I can't wait to see the finished products." Ethan said with amusement, as though there was some hidden joke involved.

"What happened? Company going down the drain or something?" he said, wanting to get more info on the master plan so it could be derailed down the line.

"Hardly. I'm just planning a little… expansion and having a few potent enforcers on the payroll would be quite helpful in dealing with any troublemakers." Charlotte said with a bit of annoyance at the 'drain' comment.

"What makes you think I'll dance to your tune, Miss Moneybags?" he asked in a way that made it clear he wouldn't be cooperative at all.

"You'll obey my commands because you won't have a choice in the matter." Mayfield replied with a chilly matter of fact tone.

He was about to say more when the doors to the room opened wide revealing a convoy of people laying unconscious on high tech gurneys, looking just as thoroughly restrained as he felt. However what caught his attention immediately and held it were the faces of those who were being set up in a circle around the center of the room.

Giles.

Willow.

Buffy.

Dawn.

"Ah! Here are the four volunteers now." Charlotte Mayfield said, sounding quite pleased. "Perfect timing. You see, Mister Harris, you won't have any say in the matter because I'll be holding the only means by which your friends can go on living. Allow me to educate you:

"First is your dear childhood friend Willow Rosenberg. Quite the prodigy according to her academic records but even that pales in comparison to her achievements in matters of sorcery. The woman who managed to awaken every Slayer on the planet when she was barely into her twenties and has only grown stronger since then," she said, sounding quite interested. "Unfortunately her powers of sorcery would prove problematic so instead I've chosen to enhance the qualities of her mind. Indeed her mind will be the only thing biological left to her after she is transformed into Major Makoto Kusanagi of Public Security Section Nine. Mister Rayne informs me that ones magical talent is often dependant on the presence of living tissue so the changes should reduce her back to the level of a novice.

"Buffy Summers is next and has proven herself to be quite the able warrior with an impressive list of defeated adversaries. Granted, I only had their reputations to go by but, if even half of what I've been told is true, it was no small feat that the oldest living Slayer managed to best them." She still sounded like she had plans. "Unfortunately she also has a reputation for being uncontrollable and rebellious but the changes she will undergo should reign her in nicely. She will become a female version of the cyborg Raiden from the latest 'Metal Gear Solid' game, thus requiring that her new white blood be externally dialyzed with equipment only I will possess in order to avoid autotoxemia. In short she can either do as she's told or die a rather unpleasant death.

"Your dear mentor Giles will also be receiving an upgrade in the form of Master Chief John-117. Clad in armor consistent with the third installment of the game, I wouldn't be surprised if he actually thanked me for the improvements that will be made," she said, sounding like she actually believed what she was saying while watching her bodyguard put the helmet of the armor on Giles and securing it properly. "After all he was getting up there in age but, if all goes well, he'll be better off physically than men half his age. As for his 'incentive' to behave, that was something Mister Rayne suggested but, once he explained the idea to me, I couldn't help but agree. It will be a most effective means of keeping the Watcher under control.

"Last but certainly not least would be the young miss Dawn Summers. Granted, I had not initially intended to involve her but in this case the initiative of the team sent to capture her older sister turned out to be a good move." A particularly nasty smile appeared on her face, "As for what changes she will undergo… suffice it to say she will be my most loyal and obedient operative once all is said and done. Indeed it will not even occur to her to that she has the OPTION to defy me."

"What about me?" he asked angrily at the woman who was behind the entire scam. "You seem to have a collar for my friends but not me."

"Ah, but I haven't, Mister Harris." She never lost her nasty smile, "Every one of the 'volunteers' have their personality quirks but if there was one thing that came through loud and clear when I asked about you was one word: loyalty. You are loyal to a fault to those you consider your friends and you are willing to do much in order to assure their happiness, as well as their safety. You won't abandon them to save yourself and you're too suspicious of me not to stick close so you can keep an eye out for trouble. In short, your loyalty to them and suspicions about me are your collar."

_I really, REALLY, hate smart baddies. _

"Now, as much as I'd enjoy rubbing the hopelessness of your situation in your face, I am a busy woman," C.E.O Mayfield said as she turned to leave the room. "I will be back in twelve hours, Mister Rayne. I expect them to be transformed and still very much restrained when I return."

"Do not worry, Miss Mayfield," Ethan said as he came back into the field of vision with a prankster's smile on his face. "You'll get your money's worth."

_Why do I not like the sound of that? _ he thought with dread forming in his stomach.

_**Ethan Rayne's POV**_

_I was a bit concerned about doing a job for miss corporate exec but now… now I think this might be my best offering to Janus yet! _ he thought as he put on the necessary ceremonial robe for the spell.

He'd been stuck in military custody for years thanks to dear old Ripper and his little group of charges, but then something happened that he hadn't anticipated. A guard had come along outside his cell but decidedly earlier than the schedule he'd mentally calculated as a means of passing the time and planning an escape. Naturally he'd employed his dry wit and skill with mind games to try to plant the seeds of his later liberation but, in an unexpected move, the guard actually stopped in front of his cell and unlocked it. When the door to his cell was pulled open he was noticeably wary of this supposed glimpse of freedom and it was only made worse when another prisoner walked into view with something that looked decidedly explosive in his arms. It hadn't been until he noticed that the new prisoner was roughly the same build, age and hair color as him that he clued into what the intended plan was. He'd realized right then and there that someone was going to a lot of trouble to not only break him out but also make sure no one realized he was free.

This had intrigued him enough to play along and so he'd walked out of his cell, heard it clang shut and then followed his liberator out of the compound to where a suspicious black van waited for them both. Once inside, the guard opened a laptop and, after a little typing, a video screen popped up with a rather stunning blonde in an expensive looking business suit. She then explained to him that she knew who he was, what he could do and had a job for him that she'd pay fifty million dollars for the successful completion of. It'd been an interesting offer, even if it called for an enhanced repeat of his old Halloween gag, but he made it a personal rule never to work for people willing to pay in the millions. In his experience, people with that much money to throw around for a single job tended to value the almighty bloody dollar more than people and would do anything to keep that money. So, as graciously as he could, he declined her offer and asked to be let out at the nearest bus stop since he'd long ago made a point of placing caches of funds in the major cities. After all, mother had repeatedly told him how unwise it was to put all of ones eggs in one basket and eventually he'd listened to her when it came to valuables, possessions and cash. The number of times it'd paid off had made it worth the bother and, based on the scenery outside the prison complex he was confident, they were near one of his caches.

In response the woman merely looked at the guard and told him to do as she'd instructed should he decline her offer.

He had thought at the time that the guard would attempt to rough him up in order to force his compliance but what actually happened turned out to be quite different. He'd been completely unprepared to see the man stick himself with the syringe but that'd merely been the prologue to a sight that would make him shiver for years to come. Within seconds of being injected the man began screaming in terrible agony as smoke began to rise out of his mouth, nose, ears and even his eyes with ever increasing volume. Eventually it'd gotten so bad that he'd have opened the door to let out the smoke if he could recall where it was but sadly he did not so he'd been forced to wait until the smoke abated. When it had the guard was no longer in agony but, then again, it was rather difficult to be in pain when you've been reduced to an eyeless, shriveled up husk fit for a pharaoh's sarcophagus.

That'd been when his prospective employer had informed him that if he was certain he did not wish to take her offer, he would share her former accomplice's fate.

Naturally self-preservation kicked in and he'd reconsidered her proposal.

"Uuuhhhh…" came a muffled groan that pulled him from his recollecting.

Turning his head he was pleased to see that it was the occupant of the Mjolnir mark six armor that had made the sound of awakening that he'd heard.

"Ah, Ripper! You're just in time for the show." He walked over to his heavily restrained friend, "Truth be told, I'd thought your Slayer would've been among the first to awaken but it appears they gave her a rather ample dose of sedative. No worries, though! I'm told adrenaline does wonders for getting such things out of the average person's system."

"Ethan… if you release all of us now, I promise to only hit you once," Rupert said in a tone that, had the man been free to move, might've been intimidating.

"Sorry, old boy, but the fine lady bankrolling this little venture is rather set on getting what she asked for. Trust me when I say you do NOT wish to see how she deals with uncooperative employees. It isn't pleasant. It might even be enough to make a fyarl turn up its nose in disgust."

Considering the fact that fyarl's weren't bright enough to be picky and used snot as a weapon, it'd take something pretty nasty to disgust them.

"Besides which, she's willing to pay me fifty million dollars if I succeed and there is a tropical island that I've had my eye on..." he said as he moved to get the show on the road. "I suggest you be quiet, brace yourself and hope that Janus is in a generous mood. It's going to take quite a bit of his power to execute this variation of the Halloween spell."

In actuality, though, he was fairly certain that his patron god would be only too willing to contribute the needed power for the spell to have the desired effect. After all, while the old spell did provide a reasonable meal for the Roman deity, five constant sources of chaos would provide a steady source of sustenance until they died or someone figured out a way to get them back to normal. It'd probably take a couple of years since it was never an easy thing to undo chaos magic but that would give him plenty of time to find someplace to hide. He had a feeling that, as soon as they were free from Miss Mayfield's control, they'd likely come after him either to force him to undo his work or exact revenge. Neither possibility was very appealing so he'd be sure to find someplace to hide out for a few years where Ripper would never think to look and where even the best scrying spells would be useless. Not too many of those that were still pleasant to live in but he'd tough it out since it'd be preferable to staring Ripper and his Slayer in the face should they find him.

Looking at the table upon which he'd placed all the components of the spell, he wondered if Miss Mayfield knew that he'd actually asked for more than he really needed. Indeed, some of the items he'd only asked for because they were incredibly rare and he planned on leaving with them once his business here was finished. They'd be useful for keeping Ripper off his back, as well as making him a small fortune to comfort him during his years on the lam. If the woman had any idea how much he'd ripped her off for, he'd likely be pushed to the limits of his sneaking, evading and hiding abilities given how displeased she'd likely be. Fortunately for him she appeared to be something of a novice in the area of sorcery and the arcane despite how well informed she seemed about the various players on the supernatural side of things. Unless she wound up speaking with someone more knowledgeable about the supernatural than her, it'd likely be years before she figured out that she'd been taken for a financial ride.

Once he was prepared he began utilizing the various ingredients, both the mixed and unmixed, to prepare the metaphorical path that the arcane energies would need to take to achieve the desired effect. It was not easy since the patterns and the symbols were easily five times more complex than what he'd used all those years ago in Sunnydale. Back then he'd just been interested in a bit of fun but this time what he was doing required considerably more effort. Had he nothing more than his own desire for the fun of chaos, he would never have gone to such lengths but, with what he had to work with as well as a fifty million dollar paycheck waiting for him, he found it easy to give it his all. One by one he emptied a bottle of ingredients where they needed to go and made sure that everything was drawn precisely like it had to be to keep things from going pear shaped. Some of the stuff went on the floor, some on Ripper and his charges and some on himself in order ensure he would be able to retain control of the spell.

When the time came he knelt before the bust of Janus and began to chant the words this variation of the spell required, channeling all of his considerable power as a chaos mage into every word. Feeling the power descend from the dimension where Janus resided, he almost lost his focus due to the sheer amount being sent his way but firmed his resolve to counter this. Like tendrils from some great sea beast, energy began to manifest above the bust growing in both thickness as well as length as they stretched outwards to the intended recipients of the spell's effects. When contact was made, the changes were both dramatic as well as quite painful if the screams from the white hats were any indication. Flesh was molded and minds were overrun as what was became what they were being forced to be with little chance of resistance.

Or at least he thought so up until Ripper's little redheaded protégé showed that, even under the effects of sedation and the spell, she was capable of impressive feats of sorcery. She was actually managing to force the tendril connected to her to withdraw almost to the point of losing contact with her entirely. Doubling the strength he was putting into the spell, he managed to almost get it all the way back to where it needed to be but the little bint was making him work for it. As he'd anticipated, the adrenaline from the pain was neutralizing the sedatives AND waking her up in a big hurry, allowing her to counter the spell through sheer force of will. Fortunately, even for all her prowess and potential, there were just some things you couldn't do at a moment's notice no matter how good you were. As such she might be able to keep him from completely negating her efforts but at most this might mean that she will lack some memories or knowledge once the spell was concluded.

Nothing that would dissatisfy Miss Mayfield since she seemed to be more concerned with the hardware passing muster than something like full retention of the costume personae's memories.

He was beginning to feel some strain as he passed the halfway point of the spell, though whether it was due to fighting Red or simply managing the sheer amount of power being employed he didn't know. Whatever the reason he'd bet good odds that once all was said and done he'd be sleeping for ten hours straight and waking up positively famished. Modern gym workouts had nothing on potent chaos spells when it came to burning calories, so he'd need to replenish his reserves when he had the chance or else he'd be of no use to anyone.

As the spell reached its' end, point he decided to give forcing Red's tendril all the way back one more go while at the same time putting the last of his expendable energy into the chanting of the words belonging to the spell. He smiled as the tendril slid right back into place and he could only surmise that the bird must have not thought him capable of such a final push. In any case it was with a final crack of energy that the spell concluded, leaving him bracing himself up against the stand upon which the Janus bust rested since the sudden lack of arcane energy caused what support it provided to vanish as well. Once enough strength had returned to him, he got to his feet and moved to do one more thing in order to ensure everything didn't go tits up on him. Reaching into his pocket, he went around to each restrained being an placed a single symbol carved out of metal on them, watching with satisfaction as they stuck like a magnet before causing the high tech gurneys or chairs to glow briefly.

_Don't want these heroes to break free and run amok now, do we? _

Each symbol would increase the strength of the gurneys and the restraints by a factor of ten and that would hopefully be enough to withstand even the superhuman strength the 'volunteers' possessed. So long as Miss Mayfield followed his instructions regarding eliminating all wireless or external interface ports on the gurneys, neither the costume personalities or Ripper's group would be able to break free.

Walking over to the wall, he pressed a button to activate the intercom.

"The spell is in full effect. Wait at least five hours before shattering the bust to terminate it and then I would recommend allowing them at least four hours of recuperation before you begin your examination," he said once he was sure he wouldn't come off as a gasping weakling. "They will need time to recover, biological or not, if you want them to survive long enough to learn anything of use."

"Understood. A guard will be along to escort you back to your quarters, Mister Rayne," Wesker's voice said though the intercom speaker before the connection was severed.

_Well, that's the best I can do for you, Ripper old boy , _he thought as he looked back at the unconscious armored form of his friend. _A few hours rest. Still, if you and your 'children' stay true to form, Miss Mayfield will live just long enough to regret this little venture. Give her hell, Ripper! _

The Watcher might not feel the same way but he still considered Rupert a friend, even if he didn't act like it sometimes.

After all, what were a few pranks between friends?

_**A Little Over Two Hours Later, Master Chief John-117's POV**_

"WAKE UP, JOHN!" came a loud voice right into his ears and he was awake as well as alert in an instant.

Immediately he tried to sit up since it'd be a more strategic position than flat on his back but, to his disappointment, he found himself thoroughly restrained. He couldn't see them but he could feel them around his wrists, ankles, waist and neck so he did the next logical thing and that was to test the strength of the restraints. One by one he tested each restraint to see if there was any variation in strength but he found no significant difference in strength as all of them held up equally well under his efforts. Considering the fact that with his MJOLNIR six armor, he could lift a total of eighteen hundred pounds and that meant that whatever the restraints were made of it was damn strong.

"Sit-rep?" he asked as he took in the rest of the room.

"You know as much as I do." Cortana replied through the speakers in his helmet. "I only came back online a minute or so before you did. Other than what I could see and hear I can't tell you much. Someone's erected a jamming barrier around this room and there aren't any wireless access ports in here that I can tap into."

That meant that either someone was very paranoid or had prepared this room specifically to counter their specific abilities. There wasn't any among the Covenant who knew UNSC A.I.s well enough to prepare this well and that meant that someone human was the culprit.

That complicated matters.

While the war against the Covenant had united the human race under a single banner, his last clear recollection was that the conflict was all but over with. Half the alien races that made up the Covenant had awoken to the truth about the rings and their crusade and the others were being pushed back. While he wasn't foolish enough to think that the bad blood between the two opposing sides could be mended in less than two generations or more, the respite in hostilities would weaken the unification of the human race. Old grudges would arise and petty ambitions would enflame the hearts of a few humans who couldn't see the true cost of their actions. Sadly some of those people he knew of had a bone to pick with the SPARTAN II program, its creator and in some cases him personally, so it could be one of them who'd succeeded in capturing him. Perhaps they had found the back half of the Forward Unto Dawn and took him along with Cortana then. It was certainly feasible enough. He was in cryo last he checked and he suspected that his longtime friend would place herself into a sort of stasis in order to maximize the odds of both of them lasting until help came. A properly prepared team with specialized equipment and a sound plan could've boarded the half ship and abducted both of them before they were aware of any danger.

Looking at the other occupants of the room, he found himself evaluating them from a strategic point of view either as potential allies or enemies.

The first was a woman with purple hair who had yet to regain consciousness. She was clad in a skintight bodysuit and jacket, all of which was a combination of blacks and grays, making for good nighttime camouflage. It was impossible to determine her combat potential by looks alone so he'd classify her as a civilian at the very least and a competent soldier at the very most.

The other looked to be more of a threat, with a suit of possible armor covering a male form from the top of his head down to the bottom of his feet. In terms of appearance it looked like someone had modeled the armor to look like human musculature with a combination of both a black corded material and a reflective steel-like alloy. With crimson visor over the eyes and some kind of breather mask, it definitely looked the more threatening of the two. He'd definitely label it a threat above that of a rank and file soldier but until he could see the man in action he couldn't come to any more reliable conclusions.

The third was fairly unremarkable. Looked to be a civilian young woman clad in a sleeveless one piece body suit with knee high black boots and a white strap of some kind going around her waist several times. With the exception of the belt the entire outfit seemed to be made out of leather and was designed more to be aesthetically pleasing than functional. While there was some muscle tone from what he could see, he'd bet a month's rations that she barely knew how to fire a gun, never mind hold her own in a real firefight.

The final unknown showed signs of extensive cybernetic implants, though to what degree it was hard to tell based on his limited field of vision. With snow white hair on top it looked as though whoever had designed the implants had gone to great lengths to ensure that the woman could pass for normal if some ordinary clothes were put on. However, based on his experience with cybernetics, the more human they looked, the less power they actually possessed, so while this woman might be more than human, he very much doubted that she could surpass him in the area of brute force.

"What about our four roommates?" he asked to see if she picked up anything he'd missed.

"I can't tell much with just the mark six's sensors. They weren't designed for in depth scans," she replied honestly as he looked between the two unknowns. "Though considering they have restraints just as impressive as yours, I think it's safe to say that superhuman strength and at least some combat skill can be assumed."

"Agreed." It'd be a waste of resources to put heavy restraints on people that didn't need them.

Upgrading all four of the unknowns to Brute level threats, he began looking around as best he could to see what weapons were available in the immediate area. Nothing but bottles, books and a stone bust in the center of the room were available making for some rather crude weaponry. Not what he'd prefer but it might be enough to keep him alive long enough to get his hands on a firearm or suitable melee weapon. Odds were good that the facility had guards stationed throughout in order to deal with intruders or escapees and, depending on the complex's purpose, they could be armed with lethal or non-lethal weaponry. Either would be acceptable since even a non-lethal weapon could kill if used in the right way. However it all hinged on being able to escape the restraints so that he could utilize the crude implements to acquire something more familiar. That meant waiting until his captors showed themselves so he could get their measure and devise a means by which he could manipulate them into doing something in his favor. A restraint that someone forgot to secure or a fool that could be goaded into a fight would be nice but he'd take whatever he could get.

It was just as he was about to consider the matter further that the woman with the purple hair awoke in the blink of an eye and that wasn't a figure of speech. One second she was as unconscious as the other occupants the next her eyes were wide open and she was completely alert as though she'd been awake all along. Thinking back, he tried to remember if there'd been any signs of breathing or body movement indicating that she'd only been pretending to be unconscious.

He couldn't recall a single one.

Since to the best of his knowledge it was impossible for an organic being to stop breathing for longer than twenty-two minutes, he could only come to the conclusion that she wasn't entirely organic. If she received some kind of technological enhancement that allowed her to precisely control her breathing to the point where she could hold off breathing indefinitely, that could explain what had happened. Observing, he could immediately tell that she was no civilian both by the expression on her face as well as how she did the same as him by testing the strength of her restraints.

"No luck, ma'am. Whatever kind of metal the restraints are made of they can handle more than eighteen hundred pounds of pressure."

"And you are?" she asked, not volunteering her name first.

Smart.

"Master Chief Petty Officer Spartan One One Seven," he replied, figuring that a fellow captive might make a decent ally. "And you?"

"Major Chroma Aramaki of Public Security Section Nine," she replied, not giving anything away with her facial expressions or body language. "Any idea where we are or who tied us up like this?"

"None. Whoever did this came prepared," he replied, deciding it might be helpful to share SOME intel in the hopes of gaining some useful bits in return. "Restraints strong enough to hold us, no accessible ports wireless or otherwise and a jamming field set up around the room so sending out an SOS isn't possible. At least it's impossible with what I have at hand."

"Same here. No network access and the same blacksmith that made your restraints must've made mine because they're not budging an inch." She looked at the other occupants in the room, "Any info on our roommates?"

"Nothing. Other than you and me, they're all unconscious," he replied, not letting on that Cortana was online and fully functional. "Until they wake up or our captors decide to make their presence known, intel is speculation at best."

"It's all we have just the same." She had a look he'd seen on many veteran soldiers, "Let's pool what we know and see if we can come up with some way out of this place."

"Right," he said, knowing that that was all they could do at the moment.

In the future, though, he'd show his captors just what a SPARTAN-II was capable of doing.

_**Twenty Minutes to Five Hour Deadline, Prophet's POV**_

[SYSTEMS REBOOTING]

[INTEGRATING NEW DNA PROFILE]

[INITIALIZING]

[PRIMARY, SECONDARY AND TERTIARY SYSTEMS STABLIZATION COMPLETED]

[REROUTING PRIMARY POWER SYSTEMS]

[READY TO PROCEED]

_Took you long enough ,_ he thought at the A.I in the suit, codenamed S.E.C.O.N.D. that had been trying for the last four hours and forty minutes to get Nanosuit Two back online.

It'd taken dozens of reboot attempts and failed start ups but he was finally mission capable again but being immobile didn't mean he'd just been playing mind games while he waited. He'd kept his eyes and ears open, taking in as much as he could so that, when he did have a chance to make an escape, he'd be ready. After the first of the tactical unknowns, Master Chief Petty Officer Spartan One One Seven, had woken up from whatever had knocked him out, he'd listened. From what he'd heard it didn't sound like either him or the other one, Aramaki, had any more information on the enemy than he did but at least he gained greater knowledge of the obstacles in their path. No outlets, wireless or otherwise, meant that the enemy had a pretty good grasp of the tech interface capabilities of the group and didn't want them releasing the restraints on their own. The jamming field surrounding the room indicated that they didn't want an SOS sent out or chose to overestimate the wireless abilities of their captives. That meant that they were within range of either allies or enemies of their captors. If an escape attempt was made, it could be facilitated by drawing as much attention as possible to their location as possible in order to divide the compound's forces as much as possible.

Worth considering at the very least but he wasn't going to put all his money on that.

For the last two and a half hours more intel was added as the remaining two prisoners woke up, though if the suit's scanners were right 'came back online' might be more appropriate for the girl dressed like someone with a leather fetish. All the readings indicated that she was a cybernetic organism, an endoskeleton made of an unknown alloy covered with living synthetic human tissue, making him think that her primary function must be infiltration and perhaps assassination. The machine in young woman clothing had awoken after Chroma but so far hadn't divulged much in the way of information even when aggressively asked. If it wasn't for the fact that she appeared to be without emotion, he might've considered her a plant by the enemy but in truth he figured it was because she'd been programmed not to answer questions from fellow prisoners. In fact he considered it a small miracle that they'd managed to get her name, 'Cameron Phillips', out of her but then decided such things were considered non-vital. Much like the others, he had no way to measure how much of a threat she was other than to think that she wouldn't be in such thick restraints if she wasn't superhumanly strong.

The last to wake up out of the lot of them was the one with the white hair that looked like it had an artificial muscle system similar to his own, only smaller. Whether this was due to the fact that they were more advanced or simply because making them any bigger would be too conspicuous he didn't know but they were definitely not as bulky. In fact…

NANOVISION ENGAGED

Yep. According to what he was seeing, only the top half of the skull, the brain and part of the spinal column were organic, with everything else being a synthetic of some kind. While some of those synthetics were giving off heat and a perceivable energy signature, there was nothing about them that could be mistaken for organic or natural. From what he could see the nails on each finger and thumb had been designed to work as claws and the feet resembled two toed socks with roughly an inch or two of heel in the back. Add to that a visor with what look like some kind of night vision lenses that could slide into place and he was fairly certain black ops were the specialty of this young woman. Since she'd woken up a lot of ground had been retread and nothing really new in terms of intel had been submitted so they were pretty much in the dark.

Still, he had a theory and he felt that now was as good a time as any to let the others know.

"I've got a theory about all this if you'd like to listen."

"Not like we have anything better to do," Chroma said with a bit of annoyance.

"First, look at the five of us. What is the one thing we have in common?" he asked them before waiting to see what their answers would be.

"We're all warriors." Master Chief replied almost immediately.

"You're right but its more than that. All of us have been enhanced by technology to one degree or another." He looked each of them in the eye in turn, "Unless I'm wrong, some of us ARE pure technology. The thing is none of us are made from exactly the same technology. I think that the people who captured us and are running things are looking to see what makes us tick so they can either replicate our enhancements or bring them all together to make something unique. With the number of cybernetics in each of us, that's probably the only reason we're still alive. That and they're probably confident that these restraints will hold."

"No reason they shouldn't be," Raiden said with a bit of sarcasm. "All of us have tried to break out and since we're all still here it's clear how that turned out."

"Still, it's a valid theory," Master Chief said, sounding more objective. "It also means we have a time limit in order to escape. Once they've learned all the need from us, they'll likely dispose of us."

The discussion was cut short when the door to the room opened to reveal a blonde thirty-something woman in a business suit. At first glance she might strike a person as being a businesswoman or a politician but the look in her eye… if she wasn't a spook, she was damn close to one in the way she saw the world.

"Oh, I won't dispose of you, dear Master Chief, even after my scientists have learned all your secrets," the woman said with a smile on her face. "After all, as I'm sure you know, it's the warrior that makes the weapon, not the weapon that makes the warrior. I could outfit an entire army with your enhancements but, pitted against you, they would likely be wiped out entirely. Why? Experience! All of you are used to your bodies, your enhancements, whereas anyone fresh from augmentation will need months or longer to acclimate to their new circumstances and incorporate them into how they fight. I cannot wait that long. I have PLANS."

"And I'm sure you think that treating us like lab rats or offering obscene amounts of money will make us perfectly content to work for you?" Chroma asked, making it clear by her tone that she would not.

"You, my dear Major Motoko Kusanagi of Japan's Public Security Section Nine, won't have a choice." The blonde never once looked like she thought things wouldn't go her way. "In fact, I know a way to change all of your minds quite effectively."

With that the woman walked over to the clay bust of a two faced man that had been placed in the center of the room, lifted it up and, with surprising force, threw it against the wall. All he had time to comprehend was the sound of the bust shattering then out of nowhere his mind fell into chaos, with thoughts seemingly fading away into nothingness. In the end it proved to be too much for him and unconsciousness claimed him.

His last thoughts were that he couldn't die yet.

He was a marine and his fight was far from over.


	2. The Bloody Darkness Creeps

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the copyrighted materials contained herein. They are the rightful property of their creators and associated companies. I make no profit off of this whatsoever and I have no intention of changing this at any point in the future. I write because it's fun and because there are those who enjoy reading my work.

Note: Sorry for the long wait. Real Life and more specifically me new job were demanding quite a bit of attention and the place gets pretty busy around the holidays. Not exactly conducive to imaginative writing or at least not in my case.

_**A Few Hours Later, Rupert Giles' POV**_

_Ethan, if I ever see you again, I'll shove a Needler so far up your ass they'll need to clean you off the walls with a sponge!_ he thought as he regained consciousness.

Of course once his mind cleared enough for him to realize that he'd used a term that he was fairly sure he'd known nothing about prior to this debacle, but now knew extensively what its capabilities were both from a user and a target's point of view. The more he tried to find out where this anomalous information came from, the more anomalies he came across, ranging from how to pilot a Banshee to the recommended method of taking down a pair of Hunters. The information was almost overwhelming but, with techniques learned in order to fend off telepathic intruders, he set it aside and partitioned that part of his mind. Instead he brought up what he knew about the current situation and how best to deal with the situation.

He knew that his old 'friend' was working for an employer who wanted to use the chaos spell cast in Sunnydale all those years ago, presumably to gain access to fictional technology and biology. This employer was apparently willing to party with a sizeable sum of money in return for this service but, considering how much an enterprising individual could gain from the venture, it was pocket change by comparison. Of course that assumed that monetary gain was the employer's objective but he knew that, even with just the knowledge, technology and enhancements he now possessed, conquering a sizeable country was not out of the question. Assuming the technology and the augmentation procedure could be successfully replicated using what could be found within him, both literally and figuratively, the mastermind could create an army of SPARTAN-IIs. Considering the exploits from the memories of the Master Chief, memories that were almost as real feeling as his own, it was unlikely that any military on the planet would be able to defeat then without resorting to extreme as well as possibly nuclear measures.

He'd rather the world not be turned into a radioactive wasteland.

Turning his focus inward, he could already tell that his body had undergone significant changes as his bones felt… firmer, and while he'd have to consult a mirror, he'd wager his muscle mass had increased substantially. In truth, he felt better than he had in ages with none of usual discomfort or maladies that commonly accompanied old age, thus making him reluctantly grateful to his 'old friend'. His greatly improved eyesight also let him know that the HUD on his visor worked and, while it was far from comprehensive, it was a strong indicator that the armor he wore was also fully functional as well as just like the foreign memories told him it was like.

While this information did reassure him somewhat since it meant he had more options than simply the skills of a Watcher at his disposal, he still did not appreciate it being done against his will. He had little doubt that, when his young friends were feeling better, they'd likely poke fun at the fact that he was now a cyborg and knew more about weapons technology than anyone on the planet. He'd told them repeatedly that it wasn't that he HATED technology but that he preferred that knowledge have a more tangible feel to it. Digital knowledge and technology… it just felt so ethereal to him! At least with books, scrolls and the like he could verify its authenticity with his own two hands using the skills he possessed and could trust the knowledge gained from people who'd made the discovery in the first place.

_Well, no sense dwelling on something you cannot at present change, _he thought as he noticed the others beginning to stir. _Better to use that energy to help the others cope with their new circumstances. I will likely have my own 'freak out' moment later, once the ramifications have time to catch up with me._

"Uhhhh… .what a nightmare," Buffy said with a slightly scratchy voice. "I thought for a second I'd… wha-what's wrong with my… WHAT THE HELL HAS HAPPENED TO ME!?"

"Buffy, I know that this is a lot to ask but please try to stay calm." he said with his voice somewhat deeper. "If we are to stand any chance of making it through this, we must keep our heads."

"Keep our HEADS!?" Buffy asked, with signs of a 'freak out' appearing. "IS THAT SUPPOSED TO BE SOME KIND OF **JOKE**!? I'm a FUCKING machine! Nothing… nothing FEELS right!"

_Well, that pretty much confirms that whatever the abilities of her cybernetic body, they do not include a perfect sense of touch,_ he thought, closing his eyes in sympathy. _It's likely along the lines of how one feels under localized anesthetic: a numbness where only the minimal sense of touch is perceivable. You can tell you're hand is touching something solid but there's no texture to it. You can't tell if it feels smooth, rough, wet or dry. In a way it's worse than if she'd had her sense of touch removed entirely because at least then there wouldn't be that proverbial carrot dangling just out of reach._

"I know. I have the memories of thousands, tens of thousands, of deaths in my mind," he said, trying to let her know she wasn't alone. "Some were allies, more were enemies and some were just civilians I, I mean John One One Seven couldn't save for one reason or another. I thought I'd seen everything being a Watcher and then running the New Council… what the Master Chief has seen and endured makes me feel like a right pansy. Nevertheless, what I said was true: if we're to have any hope of making it through this, we have to stay calm and think things through. This is not the time to go as nutters as Drusilla."

"R-right… right! So, I'm guessing you haven't figured out anything new since you got back in the driver's seat?" she asked, sounding increasingly calmer.

"Alas, no. Until the restraints are removed we are effectively trapped." He remembered the conversation that had gone on while John was in control and frowned. "Our best chance will likely be when they attempt to discern how our new bodies work and try to replicate them. While they will likely attempt to sedate us in some manner, there is a chance they'll make a mistake with the dosage or the means given that they'll be unfamiliar with our enhancements."

"Then we'll break free and start kicking some ass!" she said, sounding very much like she'd only be satisfied when every last person in the complex was unconscious on the ground.

"No. Our priority will be escape," he said, firmly opposed to unnecessary fighting. "We will dispatch only the minimum needed in order to assure our escape from this hellish place. We have too little information on Ethan's employer to make an accurate assessment of their resources or influence. Better to get to a secure Council facility and plan our retribution there."

"Alright. Just don't make me wait too long," she said, sounding like only the promise of eventual revenge was keeping her from going for immediate revenge.

"Never fear. I'm eager for my own pound of flesh as well but I plan to make sure it all goes off without a hitch. That means planning. LOTS of planning." A feral grin was hidden by his helmet. "So when the buggers try to escape, they'll have no place to hide."

"Just remember to leave some for me," came Xander's voice from within the black and white suit of armor. "You're not the only ones with a new set of mental luggage."

"Death, loss or unbelievable suffering?" Buffy asked sardonically with a crooked grin on her face.

"All of the above. I don't think you can be a soldier and not experience all three at some point," Xander replied, turning his head to look at her. "We've been through a lot fighting the good fight but what I can remember of Prophet's life now. It's enough to make me believe we're still newbies."

"Prophet?" he asked curious about the rather ominous name or title.

"Major Laurence Barnes, leader of Raptor Team, a specialist in recon, covert and support missions in the American military. His call sign was Prophet," Xander explained, sounding like parts of his new memories were fuzzy. "I can't remember perfectly but I think he got the name because he had a habit of preparing for worst case scenarios on missions and his predictions had a bad habit of coming true."

_Yes, I imagine that would be cause enough to earn that moniker,_ he thought, thinking on the sense of humor of the person behind the decision.

"Sounds like someone with his own kind of Harris luck," Buffy said with a bit of humor in her voice. "Except he had the sense to plan ahead."

"Ha-ha-ha-ha," Xander deadpanned at first. "…Yeah it does, doesn't it?" Xander asked rhetorically, sounding like he found the comment at least a little funny.

"You guys do realize that this entire room is probably bugged, right?" came Willow's voice from the high tech gurney she was restrained on. "From where I'm laying I see two cameras and at least one microphone. I'm thinking if we're gonna be planning our escape, it'd be a little smarter to do it where they can't eavesdrop."

Already he could hear Chief Petty Officer Mendez giving him a verbal beat down for overlooking such an obvious variable in the current situation. It was only logical that prisoners be kept under some kind of surveillance even from within their prison cell. Bloody rank amateur!

"Point made," he said, sounding appropriately chastised. "Then perhaps we should summarize our captures and the circumstances surrounding them. Perhaps we can gain a better understanding of what we're dealing with that way."

He knew it was most likely pointless. From what he'd seen during his encounter the men were most likely mercenaries rather than the personal operatives of their captor. Once they escaped they might be able to locate the group and search through their bank records for their employer but not now. All he could say for certain was that they were likely expensive given the weapons and equipment they wielded. Each mercenary likely had possessed a small fortune in equipment on his body and you don't possess things like that unless you had plenty of currency to spend.

Combined with Ethan's paycheck, the culprit or culprits were likely either government or corporate in nature. Neither would be easy foes to gain retribution from and, even if they succeeded, there would be consequences that could well have them leaving behind the Council in order to ensure its survival. Consequences often meant revenge, retribution and debts by the boatload. If the Council was to be free of such complications, it had to be kept at a distance once the five of them went on the warpath.

_We've done a good job making the foundation, _he thought as he listened to Xander summarize how he was captured. _Robin and the others can take it from here._

_**The Next Day, The Director's Office, Rocky Mountain R&amp;D Facility, Athena's POV**_

_Time to see how my investment has turned out,_ she thought as she activated the vid-com system built into the wall in front of her. _Drago should've had enough time to do a basic scan on each of them by now._

It only took a couple of seconds for the link to be established but, once it did, the music of screams and suffering filling the air even as the image of a particularly busy Doctor Drago moving about the lab like a hyperactive puppy appeared before her eyes. He seemed quite excited and that led her to believe that he was getting quite a bit of useful information from the test subjects pleasing her greatly. Nevertheless, when she called for a status update, she demanded that her underling present himself promptly before her regardless of how productive he was being.

"DOCTOR DRAGO!" she said loudly enough to get the weak willed man's attention. "I trust you have good news for me?"

The man instantly abandoned his activities, knelt before the camera in proper subservience and kept his eyes on the floor.

Better.

"Yes, mistress. While we have only just finished a cursory scan of each subject the information, we have gained is… well, astonishing would be the best word to describe it," Drago said, barely maintaining a professional demeanor. "The technological advancements across EVERY field of science… they're incalculable!"

"Then perhaps you could give me a summary of what you've learned so far and put the rest in your official report?" she asked in a sharp but polite tone of voice.

"Um… yes. Certainly," Clark said as he brought a clipboard of notes up to read. "Subject One, codenamed 'Prophet', is clad in a suit comprised of a Coltan-Titanium exoskeleton, with various points carboplatinum-reinforced. However the material that makes up the bulk of the suit is nano-fiber and, from what we've been able to determine thus far, is the source of the suit's amazing enhancement properties. There are also signs that it possesses significant energy absorbing capabilities which I suspect explains why it doesn't possess a visible power generation or battery unit. Quite impressive and it's given me new ideas for overcoming my own project difficulties.

"Subject Two, codenamed 'The Chief', is proving to be both a boon and a source of difficulty. Basic scanning was completed but some of the properties of the armor have resulted in certain areas being distorted." Drago did not sound too concerned. "Nevertheless, we've learned quite a bit. First is that, as suggested in the fictional material, the suit when in use is fully pressurized, allowing the wearer to continue functioning in a vacuum. The armor is comprised of several parts, starting with its titanium outer shell, rendering it quite immune to small arms fire and I suspect it even possesses resistance to energy weapons if my theory about the cause of the distortions is correct."

"That is quite good, Doctor Drago. Many of the enemies my forces will be fighting will wield such weaponry," she said, already picturing Jaffa and SG team alike firing uselessly at the Spartan. "What of the man inside?"

"We have gained a greater understanding of the enhancements to 'The Chief' as well," Clark replied, flipping a page over the top of the clipboard. "We immediately picked up on the fact that a carbide ceramic was grafted onto skeletal structures throughout his body but not exceeding three percent of his total bone mass. Doctor Henson suspects this is so there would be no interference in the body's natural production of white blood cells. We are also seeing signs of extensive biological tampering, resulting in such things as increased growth of skeletal and muscle tissues, as well as changes to the nervous system. Henson strongly recommends a thorough understanding of these enhancements and how they were carried out before we try it on a baseline subject."

"So noted," she said, willing to give her scientists some say in their work so long as they never forgot who ruled over them all.

"Subject Three, codenamed Miss Lightning Bolt, is, as we suspected, completely cybernetic from the upper jaw downwards. Aside from the upper half of the skull and part of the spinal column, everything else is completely artificial. The design of the exoskeleton bears some resemblance to Prophet's in its resemblance to human musculature but that is all," Drago explained, moving onto the next 'volunteer'. "It apparently runs on artificial white blood and, according to a preliminary analysis, increases the amount of oxygen Miss Lightning Bolt can absorb, resulting in a great deal more energy. Logical, especially when taking into account that the musculature would require a great deal of that energy to give the subject increased speed, strength and agility. The only drawback being that the subject would require the blood to be externally dialyzed after prolonged activity in order to prevent autotoxemia in the subject. I've asked our med-tech division to begin construction on the necessary equipment using the basic scans immediately."

She nodded once to show that she approved of his decision to give an order to the med-tech division without consulting her.

"Subject Four, codenamed 'Cameron', has shown a distinct lack of reaction to the basic scan when compared to the other subjects. Whether this is simply because like her fictional counterpart she does not feel pain or she has a higher pain threshold than the others is unknown. As described in the fictional material she is comprised of a humanoid endoskeleton possessing design differences from the T-800 model. One of the most surprising would be thigh blades that apparently can pop out on command, allowing for an unexpected attack to a target," Clark said, moving onto the second last subject. "Composed of a Coltan hyperalloy, it possesses significant resistance to heat and a resistance to small arms fire. Doctor Emerson speculates that it would likely take a depleted uranium bullet or a high explosive-incendiary round in order to do any damage to it. There are also several as yet unidentifiable components, though it has been theorized that one might be intended to distribute nutrients gained from food in order to maintain its synthetic skin.

"Subject Five, codenamed 'The Major', is comprised of a human brain with extensive replacement of large parts of the cortex with nanotechnology. We've been able to confirm the existence of 'ports' on the back of her neck, indicating the ability to directly interface with computers and operate them with thought alone. Quite an advantage if she were to attempt to hack into or out of a system. Much like the other subjects with organic components, she will likely need to absorb the nutrients in some manner in order to stay alive." Drago flipped another piece of paper over the top of the clipboard. "We've also discovered elements in the composition of both her synthetic skin and her clothing that imply an advanced active camouflage system that is consistent with the fictional counterpart's ability to render the user invisible. In depth analysis of both will likely be required before we could replicate it for use by your agents, mistress."

She couldn't help the broad smile that crossed her face as the summary of the findings concluded and she found she didn't particularly care if Drago saw it.

She'd been concerned that the technology might be too advanced for her scientists to reverse engineer but, assuming Doctor Drago wasn't exaggerating the team's understanding of the scans, she was wrong. Her mind boggled with the possibilities of what she could accomplish once a complete analysis was made of the technology present in each subject. She still had no intention of letting the five subjects die if it could be prevented but she would be sure to impress the need to dig as deeply as they safely could upon the scientists involved in the project.

After all, their findings would be the foundation upon which she would bring about the returned dominance of the Goa'uld System Lords, with her taking the position once held by Ra before his humiliating death at the hands of the Tauri.

"Proceed with your examinations, Doctor Drago. I want to learn as much about this new treasure trove of information and technology as possible. However both you and your colleagues are to keep this in mind at ALL TIMES: every precaution possible is to be taken to ensure that no permanent or fatal damage is done to any of the subjects." She put strength and edge into her words and the man took note. "After all, once the first soldiers of my new army have received their 'upgrades' they will need instructors to show them how best to make use of their enhancements. I cannot think of better teachers, can you?"

"No, mistress. I will notify them of your commandments at once," Drago replied with just enough fear in his voice to convince her he'd give the message all due weight.

"Very well then. Contact me if there are any significant developments but otherwise I will leave day to day affairs in the hands of the facility director," she said before severing the vid-com connection.

Things were going to be very busy for all concerned in the next little while.

While Drago and his associates handled the scientific side of things, she would work to begin constructing a series of plans that would best make use of what was discovered. Fools like Ba'al and Apophis would no doubt rush things in order to first conquer Earth before turning their ambition to the stars themselves. She would play things differently, though. She would plant the seeds of her victory well before she revealed herself to the world and, when they tried to retaliate, they would find their systems co-opted and their weapons useless. Through the various companies and businesses she controlled, through fools or blackmail, she would slowly disseminate technological developments into the places of power. Once there they would facilitate the actions of her agents, allowing them to do as they wished as though the fools who thought themselves powerful were already her servants.

_Yes. My rise shall be like unto a storm; moving, gathering, changing and then before anyone can do more than flee I shall strike. _ Her excitement caused her eyes to flash with light for a moment. _All shall come to worship me or die at the hands of my technological warriors!_

With that thought she succumbed to the urge to laugh at the prosperity she would soon enjoy and so the sound would echo through the air for all to hear.

_**Twelve Hours Later, Holding Room, Willow's POV**_

Pain.

It was something that some people said was a strong indicator that you were alive, no matter what injuries you'd received because the dead felt no pain. It was something that the majority avoided, whether it was physical or emotional pain because the sensation was unpleasant.

Buffy, Xander and Giles had been put through a great deal of pain up until two hours ago when they'd all been wheeled back into the room they'd undergone their changes in. The scanning device that they'd used on all of them had not been a gently working tool and it'd only gotten worse the deeper the scans went. The basic scans were enough to send her friends and mentor into literal screaming fits that wouldn't end until either they went hoarse or the scan finally came to an end. It'd been bad, she'd heard every second of it, but they'd still been conscious enough to voice death promises to every scientist in the lab. Some of them had been quite impressive, causing more than one lab jockey to go pale for a moment before finding someplace else to be.

It didn't last though.

A few minutes after the basic scans had been completed the man with the name Drago on his lab coat had ordered level one scans to be initiated.

This level of scanning apparently made the basic scans look like a light massage by comparison because, while her loved ones did scream just like before, this new set of exclamations were as different as diet Pepsi and normal Pepsi. The pitch was higher, the time before their voices gave out was shorter and, when they finally came to an end, all three of them looked lucky to still be conscious. No death promises were issued this time but this was more likely due to physical exhaustion than lack of desire given the hell they'd just been put through. The level one scans lasted a full two hours by her estimation due to the fact that the scanning beam crept up their bodies at a slow rate of speed. Obviously these monsters were going for more in depth scans of their bodies in order to figure out what they were made of or where every wire and part went.

They were very thorough going all the way up to level three scans before finally sending them back to their room two hours ago since at that point Buffy, Xander and Giles had apparently shown signs of reaching their physical limitations where pain was concerned. However while she could not be certain, she thought she'd heard the lead scientist say that they would conduct level four and five scans on completely different days in order to minimize risk of permanent damage. That these two new levels would be so painful that doing them both on the same day would risk permanent harm or death made her hate these people all the more. She wanted nothing more than to unleash her magic upon them all and curse them to relive the suffering they'd caused every time they fell asleep, not waking up until they'd felt IT ALL.

But she couldn't.

Not because there was some important reason why she had to wait or because there was some sort of containment spell around her.

It was because her magic was almost all gone.

The moment she'd woken up and been in control of her new body she'd known something was off but it hadn't been until after she and the others had finished talking that she'd learned the truth. She'd tried to use her magic to open up a communications connection with one of the other mages employed by the New Council of Watchers and had followed the steps just like she had hundreds of times before.

Nothing had happened.

The connection had risen up, up out of her body, but before it could even leave the room she'd felt it sputter out into nothingness. This had mystified her and at first she'd merely written it off as the lingering affects of the chaos magic and had tried again, albeit with a bit more effort than before. This had barely resulted in the connection getting more than an inch out of the room before it followed the fate of its predecessor. This had caused her to become quite worried and so she'd focused her mind inwards to see just how drastic the changes were to her magical core and how it interacted with her body.

What she'd discovered had been enough to shatter her tranquil calm entirely and had attracted the attention of the others. They'd asked her the usual questions like 'what is wrong' and 'are you alright' but she was only peripherally aware of this because what held her complete attention was one thing alone.

Her magical core, that had once burned with the brilliance of a newborn star, now barely qualified as a particularly bright flashlight.

Her mind had raced to determine the reason for this drastic alteration of who and what she was but, as the more comforting possibilities were eliminated one by one, there came to be only one scenario that fit all known parameters. When she'd first regained control of herself, she'd thought that she was more techno organic than an actual cyborg like the Major. All her studies of sorcery had told her that drastic transformations of any living thing into something drastically different required a large amount of power, a clear cut road map leading from one form to another for every part of the body and supreme focus. She'd conceded that with Janus' magic and Ethan's combined, they met that requirement and Giles' old friend might be able to manage the final condition but it was the middle one she'd considered unlikely. Everything she had ever heard or learned about Ethan Rayne indicated that the man's medical or technical knowledge was no better than your average civilian would possess. The changes that the man had caused on Halloween all those years ago had been temporary and in some cases only skin deep. She believed this was mostly due to Janus stepping in, taking care of things to the best of the Roman god's ability since Ethan couldn't fill in the blanks himself. She'd believed that something similar had happened in this case and that had made her believe that Janus had simply altered their biological bodies just enough to be passable imitations of the genuine articles. Thus she'd reasoned that she'd still be close enough to her human self for everything to be okay and therefore had no reason to think her communication spell would fail.

After the second failure she'd known better.

The total amount of biological matter she had left was now about the size of a clenched human fist, with all the rest being replaced with various types of micromachines, cybernetic implants and artificial components. While some people might think that a Wicca or wizard's power came from their soul, they'd be only half right because it was the combination of the flesh and the soul that made everything to work. It was like fire, if you wanted the very simple analogy. The size or intensity of a fire was entirely dependent on the amount of oxygen that was available to fuel it. No matter how much combustible material you fed to the flames, without an increase in oxygen it'd stay at the same level. When she'd been fully biological she'd had more than enough 'oxygen' to generate as much magic as she needed and certainly enough to contact the Council from anywhere on the planet. Thanks to Ethan's fucking spell, though, she'd be lucky to pull off basic parlor tricks and maybe a watered down version of her magical electronic hacking technique.

Being able to do magic had been full of ups and downs for her since she'd first started dabbling but she'd come to respect it and it'd helped her establish her place both in the Scooby gang and the New Watcher's Council later on. Now, though, it looked like she was back to being her pre-magic self: an academic genius with mad hacking skills. Indeed, things would likely be better than ever because, thanks to the spell, she now had the memories of a super-class-A hacker as well as a major in the Japanese military. While her fully prosthetic body wasn't anymore bullet proof than a normal human's, she believed she now had physical abilities comparable to a Slayer. However there was one other 'advantage' that she was beginning to think of as a form of mental torture all its own.

Because she'd been reduced to a brain with a few cyber parts added on, it was impossible for her to feel physical pain because there were no pain receptors in the brain.

That meant that while her arm could be ripped off or her body could be shot full of holes, she wouldn't feel a single thing and would still be able to act provided the desired part of her prosthetic body was still functional as well as connected to her brain case. Even if someone stuck needles into her brain she wouldn't feel a thing but it would impair her movement or shut down her senses depending on the placement of the needles. Just like that time when the Major was going to switch to a new prosthetic body after her current one had gotten its arm shot off by an ARM suit and one of the NARC squad members still at large tried to kill her. It pretty much meant that the only way to kill her for sure would be to blow her organic brain to pieces while denying her any means of transferring her mind to a new prosthetic body.

However it also meant that, while the scans had thrown her for a loop, it hadn't been any worse than her sitting in a chair then having someone spin it as fast as they possibly could. It was more disorienting than anything else but that meant that she couldn't share in the pain of the others and, without distraction, she was all too able to hear their screams. On and on they'd screamed as the unfamiliar scanning device panned over them leaving her a helpless listener to their suffering. It'd gotten so bad that she'd thought that she'd lose her mind if it went on for much longer but then it did end.

At least until they were ready to start the level four scans of their bodies.

Then the others would scream again, with it potentially being for the last time if the butchers got careless or didn't take the necessary precautions.

Left without the most expedient means of saving her friends or getting revenge for them all, she was left with only one choice: be patient.

Listen.

Watch.

LEARN.

Then, when the opportunity appeared, take ACTION.

She might not be able to pull off Darth Willow now but with a little work she could become something just as terrifying.

A ghost in the machine.

_**Doctor Clark Drago's Office, Two Days Later, Evening, Drago's POV**_

Was it really all worth it?

It was a question that he had yet to come up with a concrete answer to and that bothered him during the odd time when work didn't dominate his thoughts.

They had completed level five scans a few hours ago and now each department was going over the information relevant to their own specific expertise. To say that they had a small mountain of information to go over, even after it'd all been divided up, would be something of an understatement and he personally wouldn't likely finish his pile for at least another three days, assuming he slept on the couch in his office. The sophistication, the inspirational approach to each system and the way it all came together made him feel like he was just out of high school. He hadn't been lying when he'd told Athena that what the scans revealed could help him overcome the difficulties he was having with his own work. The knowledge gained from subjects Major, Miss Lightning Bolt and Cameron alone showed him how he could get the results his mistress demanded without rendering disguising the operative as a human impossible. His mind was already coming up with an idea for a new cybernetic limb design that he was sure would surpass all expectations.

First, however, he would need to finish analyzing the findings from the scans so that replicating the desired enhancements could be one hundred percent guaranteed.

He knew beyond a reasonable doubt that priority had to be given to this or else Mistress Athena would be quite cross with him. Perhaps even cross enough that he might need to surgically connect a cybernetic limb to his own body in order to continue to work.

Besides fear of reprisal, though, he couldn't help but believe that they were doing work that would change the world forever and usher in a new age of prosperity for humanity. Oh, he understood that his Mistress was solely interested in creating her own galaxy-wide empire with this newfound technology but that didn't mean that the ill, the handicapped and the unfortunate couldn't benefit. After all, if all the information he'd gained about how the Goa'uld ruled was accurate, basic citizens were allowed to go about their respective lives as though nothing had changed. True, they were called upon to serve their ruler and, if necessary, give up their lives, but that was not all that different from how most Earth governments operated. In a way serving a Goa'uld would be superior to following the orders of a normal human ruler because, where a president or prime minister might have a decade or two of experience administrating a nation, a Goa'uld had centuries of experience to their credit. Logic dictated that the person with the greater amount of experience and knowledge was the superior leader rather than a person with less than two decades to their name.

So as long as they obeyed then why wouldn't the people gain access to the medical and technological benefits of what they were learning from the subjects?

If the cost of eliminating some of humanity's biggest ills was serving a superior leader, then he considered it well worth paying.

And yet…

And yet the screams of three of the subjects as they were scanned kept encroaching upon his thoughts and, every once in a while, he had a nightmare with one of them glaring at him in accusation. In the waking world he was able to ignore the looks, words and minimal gestures they sent his way by reducing them to specimens in his mind. Specimens weren't people, they weren't sentient, they were merely a source from which great knowledge could be gleaned, along with advancements that would benefit all mankind. It wasn't like the scans were doing irreparable harm to their bodies after all. Mistress Athena had been quite clear that no permanent or fatal harm was to be done to the subjects and that all possible precautions were to be taken. It had been this order that had caused him to space out the last two scans and kept him from subjecting the specimens to the remaining five scan levels. All those that possessed pain receptors of some kind had shown clear signs of extreme duress that was beginning to affect their vital systems. Monitoring systems had strongly indicated that, if they'd gone further, there was a chance of causing cardiac arrest in some or chemical complications in the others. Therefore he'd put an end to the scanning and, once the director of the facility agreed with this decision, it'd been decided to focus on making sense of what they'd learned before going further.

Once they were done, though, it was likely that they'd proceed with the exploratory surgeries and bio-sample extraction on the relevant subjects.

Sure, the scanning equipment that Mistress Athena had provided them with had given them a detailed look at each specimen but there were just some things that could only be learned from the item itself. The scans they took would allow them to disarm any systems meant to deter or prevent such actions, as well as help them greatly in ensuring that they could put everything back the way it was supposed to be. He believed that the reason why Athena wanted the subjects to suffer no permanent or fatal injury was because she intended to send them on missions. Therefore all of them would be in a great deal of trouble if they failed to reassemble what they disassembled properly so that it functioned as intended. He would have to make sure that all of the people who'd be involved in the surgeries and sample extractions knew this beyond any reasonable doubt.

He would NOT be the one to take the fall if something went wrong!

A loud, insistent knocking at his door startled him slightly. "Come in!" he said, looking away from his computer screen and towards the office door.

"Doctor Drago! We've discovered something AMAZING!" said one of the assistants as she came in the door like time was of the essence.

"I'm afraid you're going to have to be more detailed than that, my dear," he said with an indulgent smile on his face. "As I'm sure you're aware, we've discovered quite a number of AMAZING things from the scans."

"That's just it, sir! It wasn't from the subjects!" the assistant said, excitement positively humming from her. "It was from one of their restraint gurneys!"

"WHAT?" he asked, not having expected this turn of events in the least.

"Me and Andy… I mean Assistant Mason, were checking each of their gurneys to make sure that they'd be ready for surgery and sample extraction," she replied, recalling the discovery. "As you know they're not normal and possess a system meant to monitor each subject's systems so we can be alerted if they're up to something. However when I was checking the monitoring system for Subject Chief's gurney I was shocked to find that its internal workings had been transformed into one massive data storage device!"

The news was almost too much for him to handle but, through a herculean effort, he managed to ask his next question. "Have you taken a look at what's on the storage device?"

"Only one file, sir, in order to properly determine the contents of the storage device. It appears to be schematics for Subject Chief's powered assault armor." she replied, finally remembering she was in the presence of someone in authority.

"Excellent! That will prove invaluable in disarming the armor's self-destruct mechanism." He recalled when the scan revealed anti-tampering system and remembered how much of an issue it would have caused. "I was a concerned we might have had a problem there, however with the schematics we should have little trouble. I assume preparations are underway to transfer the information from all the gurney's to our secure database in the vault?"

"Yes sir! I volunteered to inform you and the director while Assistant Mason would make sure the restraints would hold and get the necessary equipment for the data transfer." she replied promptly, never quite losing the sparkle of discovery in her eyes.

"Then I suggest you hurry along and inform the director," he said with a friendly smile. "You know how he hates to be kept waiting."

"Yes sir! Goodbye sir!" she said politely bowing a bit before dashing out of his office to inform the director.

_Well, this is quite fortunate, _he thought as he sat back in his chair and contemplated. _If we're lucky the files will also contain enough information so that exploratory surgery and sample extraction won't be necessary. It'd be a real boon if we could dodge that particular bullet._

In the end this finally provided him with the answer to the question that'd been plaguing him.

It was all worth it.

With the files on those storage devices and what they'd managed to acquire from the scans, they would be able to begin constructing replicas of what the subjects possessed ahead of schedule. That would please Mistress Athena greatly and perhaps remove the option of painful punishment or exacting execution from her mind entirely where he was concerned.

Definitely worth it.

_**Three Weeks Later, Staff Briefing Room, Afternoon, Buffy's POV**_

_That's it… keep digging your graves even deeper… then when I get out of these restraints… Raiden's gonna let'er RIP! _she thought angrily as the bastards responsible for the entire mess wheeled her into what looked like a meeting room of some kind.

It'd been weeks since their last torture session with the weird scanning device but that hadn't meant that their torture had ended. No, it'd simply changed in nature. While stuck in their 'room' people in lab coats came in at least three times a day, with the first being to check their vitals, the second to experiment with a new version of crap they wanted to see if it'd work with those of them that needed their flesh kept alive and the last an interrogation session. The last bit was a series of questions aimed at finding out just how much they could recall of their costume's past and experiences both personal as well as professional. One lab jock had finally cracked under her badgering about a week back and told them that the purpose of the questions was to get an early indicator as to how well they'd be able to use what'd they had 'inherited'.

Naturally, since she hated every last person in the place with the exception of her fellow Scoobies, she'd chosen to tell them nothing but made up stuff while using what acting skills she possessed to make them think it was the truth.

That game didn't last long.

Apparently they'd somehow managed to get a hold of some very detailed information regarding the fake universe her costume had come from and knew when she was bullshitting them. At first they'd made veiled threats about what'd happen if she continued to be uncooperative. When that didn't work, they went with blunt threats with varying degrees of detail. They didn't realize that threats of personal pain wouldn't work on her anymore because, after the hell they'd put her through scanning her robot body, her pain threshold had skyrocketed. They'd have to be particularly inventive and inspired to do anything that'd do better than what they'd done and she wasn't optimistic about their chances. In the end they'd given up about a week ago trying to get anything out of any member of the Scooby gang verbally but that hadn't left them torment free.

At least she didn't think it did.

The day after they'd stopped interrogating they'd gassed the room AND sent some kind of heavy duty EMP through that knocked her out cold. She wasn't sure how much time had passed by but when she'd come to the bastards had been wheeling her back into the room implying that she'd been taken out of it at some point. When the others had come out of their slumber she'd asked them if they remembered anything but they'd been just as clueless as her.

As the last of the Scoobies entered the room and were left arrayed side by side in front of a large flat screen, she thought back to the OTHER reason was she was all kinds of pissed at the people holding the Scoobies captive.

They'd changed Dawn.

Into what she didn't know because, as far as external appearance, she looked the same as she always had, though with a bit more of a leather fetish than every before. As much as she'd hated to, she'd tried to use the Solid Eye things that were built into her new 'body' to find out more but the stupid things couldn't tell her anything other than the fact that her sister still had body heat. That wasn't all that helpful, though, since she knew what Willow had turned into and, while it had flesh, everything except the brain was synthetic. She'd tried talking to her sister but all she'd gotten was a momentary, cold, look that still sent chills down her spine just remembering it.

There'd been very little life in those eyes.

She knew that your average person wouldn't be able to tell that anything was wrong but, whether it was because she still had the Slayer in her or because whatever mental quirks she'd gotten from Raiden made her pay attention to detail, she could tell. When she'd told the others about what she'd noticed, Xander had clung to the idea that whoever she'd been turned into had simply been the supreme ice queen and that Dawn was just having trouble shaking it off.

She wasn't so sure.

So this was another thing she wanted to kill everyone in this place for: turning the normally smiling and full of life young woman into something that just looked like her sister.

When the flat screen turned on, she was shown the face of the one person she'd be particularly inventive with when it came to exacting her revenge.

"Well, this day has been a long time coming but I would have to say that it has been well worth the wait. Through you five I now have the knowledge necessary to turn my company into THE most powerful corporation on the planet," Charlotte Mayfield said from what looked to be a rather fancy office. "Already my business and other front companies have begun work on replicating everything from the weaponry your fictional selves employed to the very components that make up your bodies and BEYOND. I expect to be the richest person on the planet within three years."

"So glad our suffering is helping to line your pockets," Giles said with sharp, dry sarcasm.

"However in order for me to expand in the necessary directions, certain… variables… need to be put in their proper place and obstacles need to be removed. How fortunate that I have a strike team of five with the skills and memories of some of the most impressive soldiers ever to be born of the fictional world." Charlotte said, completely ignoring the elder Watcher's words.

"You put us through hell and you expect us to do your wet work for you?" Willow exclaimed angrily, voicing what all of them were feeling at the moment.

Well… almost all of them.

"Why, yes, I do. Hmmmmm… it seems Mister Harris did not inform you of our last conversation together. Very well, since I'm in such a good mood I'll tell all of you what I told him even though I despise having to repeat myself." Mayfield said, never losing her victorious smile. "You see, I did not choose your costumed identities by mere chance. I specifically chose them because each possesses an Achilles heel of sorts that will force your obedience with regards to my orders.

"For you, Miss Rosenberg, there's the fact that like all machines your body will experience wear and tear. Where do you plan on getting replacement parts?" she asked with smug confidence. "My companies will be the only ones that will make them and they won't be available for purchase by anyone for at least a decade or two. Therefore the only way to keep your body in good working order will be through me. Add to that the fact that your brain is going to need a specific cocktail of nutrients and amino acids in order to stay alive and I don't like your odds for survival outside of my employment.

"For Miss Summers, her cybernetic body is similar in that it'll need maintenance in order to remain functioning, as well as specialized food." She turned her head to the snow haired cyber-ninja. "She will also need to have her white blood externally dialyzed with special equipment following prolonged use in order to avoid autotoxemia. That, of course, isn't taking into account replacing the white blood should she be wounded in some manner. I don't believe you'll find tanks of white blood available at your local pharmacy or chemical supplier. You will, of course, have all the white blood you require as an 'employee' of mine.

"As for Mister Harris himself there's the fact that the nanosuit he's wearing is symbiotic in nature and, according to our scans, it's already begun to form a bond with him. Before long it's questionable as to whether or not he'll be able to take it off at all." She lost a BIT of her smugness. "Then, of course, there's his absolute loyalty to his friends. He'd never abandon the rest of you to save his own hide and he might well be the one who'll volunteer to take on the bloodier assignments just to keep the rest of you as clean as possible.

"As for Mister Giles, it was your old acquaintance Mister Rayne who suggested a means of keeping him in line. However, since surveillance and sensor scans indicate that she hasn't made her presence known, I guess I'll just have to provide some 'incentive'," she said before pressing a button obscured by a ledger on her desk.

"AAAAHHHHHH!" came woman's scream cutting through the air from the direction of Giles' helmet.

All of them reacted with shock when they heard the scream but the reason went far deeper than simply the loudness of it because though it had been years all of them recognized the voice.

"JENNY!" Giles exclaimed with a voice that was a mixture of shock and hope.

"Indeed, Mister Giles. Given the results and the quality of the leash, I consider it money well spent to drag her spirit after the afterlife so that she can take on the role of Cortana. Bear in mind that if I hold down the button on the A.I's incentive for longer than a minute and a half, she'll suffer irreparable damage and 'die'. From what we can tell, though, it looks like the descent from whatever afterlife she was in has caused her to withdraw in on herself but I'm sure that some 'motivation' will coax her into action once more," Mayfield said as she looked at Giles after releasing the pressure on the hidden button. "Whether it is you who convinces her to return to the outside world or me, it will happen. An entity with the abilities of Cortana is simply too precious to be allowed to cower inside her data crystal chip until she comes out on her own. I'll give you two months, Mister Giles. If she fails to regain some semblance of human level thought and activity, I will take matters into my own hands.

"Last but certainly not least is dear little Dawn Summers." She looked over at the expressionless face. "Tell me: have any of you ever watched the television series 'Terminator: The Sarah Conner Chronicles'? It's relatively new and only started airing last January but already it's become quite popular. In fact I was such a fan that, when the mercenaries I'd hired came back one person heavy, I decided it would be nice to have a terminator of my very own."

"YOU BITCH! I'LL SKIN YOU ALIVE FOR THIS!" she roared in fury as it was revealed to her what her little sister had been turned into and why she was so emotionless.

"Now, Miss Summers, I simply can't abide my employees taking such a tone with me no matter how fond I might be of them," Mayfield said with a sharp, dead serious look on her face. "I imagine that you don't care if you get hurt or even if you die so long as you get what you want before you perish. However, I wonder if you would be so willing to defy me in light of… THIS!"

All at once Willow, Giles and Xander began screaming out in pain as though their blood had been replaced with the feeling.

"You may recall that after your final interrogation session, you were rendered unconscious for an undetermined period of time. Once my surgeons and scientists had familiarized themselves enough with both your technology and your biological components, I had them implant devices tied directly to your brain stems or, in Miss Rosenberg's case, her brain case," C.E.O Mayfield, said leaving no room for anyone to speak. "While it's true that her body doesn't possess pain receptors, we managed to find a way so that she feels the pain of Mister Giles and Mister Harris. So the question becomes Miss Summers: are you willing to subject your mentor and your friends to unbearable pain on the off chance that you can get close enough to me to kill me? There is, after all, only so much pain the mind and the body can take before they simply… break."

A second later it looked like whatever had been used to hurt her friends had been turned off. It pissed her off but she couldn't deny that the bitch had done her homework when it came to backing the Scoobies into a corner. Not only did she find a way to physically keep them under control but she also came up with an emotional leash to wrap around their necks. As much as she hated the woman, as much as she wanted to use every shocking method of inducing pain she could think of on the bitch, she wouldn't put her friends through hell just to get her way.

She was pinned and the whore on the flat screen knew it.

With the flick of a switch all of the restraints that had kept them immobilized for so long popped open, allowing them all what appeared to be freedom.

The truth though was that now the chains that held them were invisible to the naked eye.

The PTB had screwed them over again.

BASTARDS!

_**Colson Industries Corporate Headquarters, One Week Later, **_

_**Security Desk, Main Entrance, Security Guard James Matheson's POV**_

_BOR-ING!_ he thought as he casually gazing from one monitor to the next. _Still it's a job and in this economy that's more than most people can say._

It was hard to believe that four years ago the company nearly went under due to that mess in financial department of the company. He'd never trusted those idiots. Anyone that obsessed with numbers was bound to screw up sooner or later and that Volger guy was a clear cut example of that sort of person making the guy's suicide perfectly understandable. It was just a lucky thing that the government decided to ride in and save their butts with some financial aid or else the company would've gone under and he'd have been out of a job.

That was not something he could've handled.

He'd only gotten this job because a friend of his wife worked here and was able to pull some strings with the head of the personnel department. If he'd lost this job he'd be unemployed again and the job prospects weren't good for someone with just a high school diploma and some security guard training. No way was minimum wage at some fast food restaurant going to be enough to make a man's contribution to the bills at home or get REAL gifts on holidays or birthdays.

It was this thought that had him shake off his casualness and boredom so that he could take his job more seriously and scrutinize things more carefully. While nothing had happened in weeks that would require a security guard's intervention, that wasn't to say that there wouldn't be anything tonight. Colson Industries was still a very profitable business and had many contracts with the government, so whether it be thieves or terrorists, it was definitely a viable target. While he didn't like his odds with just a standard issue sidearm and only three other guys as back up, he knew it was part of his job description to be the building's first line of defense. It was their job to spot the trouble and, if they couldn't handle it, set off the alarms that'd have the police and maybe S.W.A.T team haul ass to the building. One of the others might screw up but he wouldn't.

Tap, tap, tap.

Looking up from the monitors at the sound, he looked towards the glass front doors of the building and saw a woman in her late twenties dressed in the uniform of the company in charge of installing the security cameras, motion sensors and the infrared trip wires. The first thing he thought was 'damn, she is HOT' and the second thing he thought was 'what is she doing here' but he only partially slapped himself for thinking such things in the wrong order of priority. Getting up from his chair, he made sure he had his keys, flashlight and ID scanner since he didn't want word to be passed around the security community that slackers worked here.

"Yes?" he asked after opening the front door enough for a conversation.

"Hi. Name's Lucy Lawson. I'm with Securtech Security Services," Lucy replied with a nice smile on her face. "Our systems at the local office showed that some of the infrared trip beams are going on the fritz. Nothing serious but they sent me up here to check them out and see what's causing the problem."

"I didn't see anything at my station," he said, trying to recall if he'd seen any flickering or anything.

"Your station's only set up to show something if one of the beams is completely tripped or fails entirely," Miss Lawson explained, never losing her 'I am just one of the gals' tone. "The monitoring system back at the local office is more comprehensive. After all, if one of those things goes down, do YOU know how to fix it?"

"No, I guess not," he replied, conceding that repairs were best left to the guys at the local office.

With that he opened the door and let her in, watching as she bent over slightly to pick up a rectangular metal box that kinda reminded him of a fisherman's tackle box.

_Nice ass,_ he thought, admiring how her pants just clung to her butt for a few seconds.

CRASH

"Aw dammit!" she cursed as the handle on the box broke off, causing it to not only fall to the ground but cause its contents to fall out. "Cheap ass bastard! I told him we needed replacements."

Deciding to do the nice thing, he knelt down with her to help her put everything that'd spilled back into the box. Who knew… maybe after she was done he could ask her out on a date.

_Huh? Pretty strong breeze tonight,_ he thought as a gust blew across his face.

It'd been pretty still when he'd gone outside for his smoke break two hours ago but then weather could change at the drop of a hat.

In the end he decided it wasn't all that important.

_**Willow's POV**_

_Never thought I'd be wearing something like this,_ she thought as she crept to the air duct entrance that had been chosen as her primary means of getting to her target floor.

Clad in a light gray, skintight suit with an almost triangular piece of headgear of the same color, she'd recognized it instantly when it had been put before her as what Motoko used to disguise herself as a super thief to locate the funds of the deposed Secretary General of Japan. When added to her Thermo-Optical camouflage, she was confident that she'd have little trouble accomplishing her assigned task. She'd almost have preferred that the place was better protected but what could she expect when she had tech over two decades ahead of anything in the building.

However that was also an obstacle since both her full prosthetic body and the tech would have compatibility issues with tech that her costume self considered antiquated. The Queen Bitch, though, had given her some go between tech that would take care of those problems like adapters for slots and sockets that didn't exist yet. It hadn't been voiced but she was pretty sure that Miss QB planned on fixing that by letting the little bits of her stolen technological treasures filter out to the general public; nothing that would give the human race an edge over the C.E.O or threaten whatever goals she might have but enough to perhaps facilitate global domination.

It was a given that the technologies that each fictional character took for granted didn't exist in reality. There was no advanced global network of computers crisscrossing the globe, nanotechnology was too crude to produce a nanosuit like Xander's suit, powered armor like what Giles had was currently impossible due to energy generation issues, cybernetics as well as high frequency blades faced similar difficulties as well as problems in miniaturization of certain parts and artificial intelligences like those found in terminators or in the form of Cortana did not exist. With this being the case, they'd be hampered on their 'missions' until tech caught up enough to make a difference.

_Personally I hope that someone catches on sooner rather than later,_ she thought as she found the vent cover and worked quickly to circumvent the contact components that'd alert security if it was removed. _Not much I can do other than hope._

Utilizing a focused laser cutting tool, she separated the parts of the cover that the contacts were attached to from the cover itself, allowing her to remove it without tripping the alarm. Entering it feet first, she carefully put the vent back into place before removing a vial from a hidden pocket in her outfit and tapping a bit of what to the ignorant observer would consider dust close to each cut in the cover. It was in fact microscopic nanites, tech gleaned from an unknown source though she believed it came from something in the tech gurneys they had been secured to up until a week ago. She thought that because she could recall a steady stream of lab coats coming into the room with what looked to be external hard drives of various sizes and models. At any rate, the nanite dust she was sprinkling was programmed to do one thing: repair any damage to metal in the area around their point of dispersal. The little machines would eliminate the cuts she'd made in under an hour, leaving no trace that anything suspicious had occurred.

Putting the vial back into the hidden pocket, she slowly began to inch her way deeper into the vent network while a map of that network appeared before her eyes. She knew that there weren't actual interfaces floating out in the open for all to see but rather that her eyes had a H.U.D like system set up. Following the map, she soon came to an intersection that she could use to properly reorient herself so she could see where she was crawling. Once that was done, she began to navigate to the nearest vertical shaft before beginning her ascent using a combination of EM boots and the strength of her prosthetic body to facilitate her trip up.

_Well this is certainly putting that old 'Mythbusters' episode to shame._

Indeed she was having little trouble ascending without making a noticeable sound and any marks she left behind wouldn't be seen unless the company sent someone into the vents to check every square foot of it. She still didn't have one hundred percent mastery over her body, even with the memories of the Major helping her out, but the Queen Bitch wasn't willing to hold off on the mission any longer. What made it worse was that the C.E.O made it clear what the penalty would be for being detected even if the overall objective was achieved.

Once she reached the top floor she held herself just below the entryway into that level's vent network since the next move would have to be completed by Lucy Lawson, aka Dawn Summers in disguise. The security on this floor was unlike the ones below it because the owner of Colson Industries had his office there. That meant motion sensors and heat sensors in the vents, hallways and rooms with more contact sensors than anywhere else in the building. Turning up her auditory organs, she heard Dawn and the security guard that'd been checking her out exiting the elevator.

As the files on the security firm and the company confirmed, it as SOP for at least one security guard to accompany unexpected visitors to sensitive areas.

"So what do you think the problem is?" the security guard asked amidst the sound of footsteps.

"Best guess? The sheer number of heat and motion sensors along with infrared trip beams is probably causing a very slight feedback event in the wiring," Dawn said, playing her role perfectly. "No one would pick it up right away after installation but over time it tends to cause problems like this."

"Then why do they go with this set up in the first place?" asked the security guard, sounding like he was trying to figure it out.

"Because if they go with the safer configuration where feedback events don't happen, there'll be gaps that an intruder could sneak through if they were good enough." Dawn replied as they got closer. "Considering how powerful and wealthy Colson Industries is, it's a safe bet that someone would be willing to pay a skilled thief to grab something from this place, especially this floor. So it's basically a choice between the odd maintenance trip like mine and letting someone make off with all your secrets. A no brainer, really."

_A no brainer is exactly what this security guard is if he's believing this line of bullshit, _she thought from her place in the vent as she waited for her partner in crime to do her part. _Goddess but they hire them dumb in the security business!_

It was a sad thing that a lot of companies were relying on electronic security rather than quality security guards. It was because of that fact that they'd have such an easy time of this mission.

Though the fact that Dawn's fake uniform had specifically tailored to flatter her figure and draw the attention of males to specific areas probably contributed to how things had gone so far too.

It took about fifteen minutes of 'checking for the source of the problem' before the younger Summers girl reached the room where all the security sensors for the floor came together before descending to the main security switchboard. Two minutes later she received Dawn's signal and, when she peeked her head up to look into the entrance to the vent network, she confirmed that everything within sight had been disabled.

"There. We might have to do something a little more long term in a few weeks but for now this'll fix the problem," Dawn said with sounds of tools going back into the box filling the air occasionally.

"Glad to hear it. Think they'll tap you for the job?" the security guard asked with a bit of hope.

"Maybe. Depends if I'm free at the time and not on another job," Dawn replied with what was almost certainly a stunning smile on her face.

"Then I'll wait here hopefully," the security guard said with what was probably a charming smile.

_The guy has no idea it's all an act, _she thought with a bit of sadness. _Dawn hasn't shown any real emotion since the spell._

All during their waking hours of captivity and since their release from restraints, the four members of the Scooby gang had done their best to try to get through to the real Dawn. They'd tried words, most kind but a few hurtful, and once they'd gained freedom of movement they'd tried action but nothing worked. Up until they'd been freed from the gurneys they hadn't been able to get a single word or emotion out of Dawn and afterwards it was like the young woman really was a heartless machine. Buffy's sister spoke and answered their questions but it was completely cold in nature and reminded her of the program on her computer that could take what she'd written in a report and read it back to her out loud.

That'd just made it all the creepier when Mayfield had asked Dawn to demonstrate her ability to take on the personae of 'Lucy Lawson' because, like a switch had been thrown, the young woman proceeded to act like a normal human being, like she was auditioning for a part in a movie. Then, just as quickly as it'd begun, the emotion and liveliness vanished when Mayfield gave the command to end the demonstration.

All of them had tried numerous times to get some spark of emotion from her but nothing worked.

That was why it was so creepy to hear the acting routine knowing it was only skin deep.

_Keep your mind on the job,_ she thought as she crawled into the top floor vent system and began to make her way to Alec Colson's office.

While all of the sensors might have been disabled by Dawn, the security cameras were very much operational since it'd have been too suspicious to disable them as well. It was only luck that the vent cover in Colson's office wasn't the in the direct line of sight for the camera in that room. The camera was just a little off to the side and panned right to left, so the idea was to wait until it was looking away and unscrew the cover while holding it in place, and then she'd slip out into the room and put the grating back into place before anyone watching the video feed could see anything.

It'd be a bit tricky but it could be done.

Five minutes later she was in position and, thanks to the features her head gear possessed, she was able to clearly see everything in the room and the field of vision for the security camera like its lens was a flashlight. Once she'd gotten a feel for the speed of its movement and how far away it'd look before panning back in her direction she put the plan into motion. First the screws holding the cover to the wall were removed one by one, allowing the little bits of metal to drop to the ground harmlessly. She waited until it panned away for the second time before slipping out into the room and covering up the vent with the grate holding it in place with her own hands. Thanks to the fact that she was invisible to the naked eye and thermal imaging no one looking at the camera feed would notice anything out of the ordinary. It was when the camera panned away again that she picked up the screws from the floor and pushed them back into place. Literally she pushed them because it'd take too much time to screw them in properly and all they needed to do was hold the grating up so no need to be neat about it.

Once the cover was back in place she moved over to the camera and, once she was directly under it, she took out a square metal box from a pocket on her hip. It had ports specifically crafted for her so all she'd have to do would be to reach for the ports built into the back of her neck, pull the wire out and then plug into the box. The Queen Bitch had told her it'd been constructed using information gained about Motoko Kusanagi's world so there'd be little trouble using it to deal with the security camera. Carefully attaching the box to the wall just below the security camera, she first connected it to the camera before she attached herself to the box.

As soon as the connection was established, a familiar circular window popped up in front of her eyes and at its center was a rectangular window showing her the security camera's field of vision. With a thought she began to record five full minutes of 'everything is normal' before uploading the file into the box. Once there she programmed the file to play in a loop for the next hour straight before initiating the box's self destruct feature that'd reduce it to so much crumbly scrap and dust.

One hour would be more than enough time for her to complete her mission.

Once she was satisfied that the camera was taken care of, she moved over to Alec Colson's desk and sat down in front of his computer. After she turned it on she took a couple of the specialized adapters she'd been given and, once the right one was attached to the end of her wire interface, she plugged it into the computer. It took less than thirty seconds for the boot up procedure to finish and once it had she went to work inserting the specially prepared files that she'd been given.

_Just keep thinking: it's for the others. It's all to keep them from dying or getting hurt,_ she thought as she began altering the records in the computer to perfectly match the events in the files.

Sadly, in order to make sure everything matched perfectly, she had to actually WATCH all of them and what she saw sickened her greatly.

There were ten files in all.

Five of them were audio files where Colson was speaking to a girl who if anyone did a voiceprint match would find out it was the daughter of a prominent United States senator. In one case the girl on the other end clearly stated who her father was and how much 'fun' it had been getting together right under daddy's nose. 'Colson', of course, agreed and made references to the kind of fun they had all of which were considered freakish by even the most open minded of bedroom play enthusiasts. Of course all the calls made at least two references to things the C.E.O had actually done and, according to Mayfield, if anyone checked the local phone records everything would check out there as well. The references would focus on places Colson had actually been and during times when the daughter was confirmed as being in the same city or when no one could account for her whereabouts. The only thing she'd had to do on her end was to make sure all the records on this side of things also matched with those at the local phone company as well as the details of Colson and the daughter's activities during the time in question. A few times she'd been forced to alter the files and impersonate his voice but with the tech she had that wasn't a problem. By the time she was done the information stored on the computer would fit perfectly with the scenario Mayfield had constructed with agents of the bitch making sure damning evidence was planted at other locations to further solidify the lie.

The next three files were video recordings showing Alex Colson at various locations that had at least one object to connect the video to a property or vehicle connected to the man. Each of them had dates and time stamps that matched places the man been and according to Mayfield had been confirmed to be by himself for at least a few hours. Each video was either a little over or a little under an hour long, containing sexual acts as well as drug use that, if it ever got out to the public, would cause serious problems for the C.E.O.

Finally, as if the previous fabricated scandals weren't bad enough, she inserted a series of emails detailing an exchange between 'Colson' and a person who at first glance wouldn't seem important. However with the previous two scandals piquing the interest of law enforcement the cops would of course investigate the matter further running a search on the name of the person 'Colson' had been talking to. It wouldn't take them long after that to connect the person to a black market arms dealer with ties to every major organized crime organization on the planet. There would be mention of 'deals' and 'modified' products not to mention rather large sums of money being sent to 'Colson' that were hidden away in Swiss bank accounts. There were also several disparaging remarks about specific members of the American military and how these people were completely in the dark.

Any one of these scandals would be enough to do serious harm to the owner of Colson Industries as well as the company itself. All three hitting at once would destroy both of them while landing the former in jail for a VERY long time.

She hadn't been told what the overall purpose of this smear campaign was supposed to be but she imagined that it was probably to either to blackmail Colson into either doing whatever the bitch wanted or to use the scandal to buy up controlling interest in the company. Either way, Mayfield would own Colson Industries and be able to use it as she saw fit.

She HATED the fact that they were ruining the life of someone who was both innocent and making great strides towards helping people worldwide but defiance was not a choice at the moment.

The Scoobies would wait and be patient. Well, most of them, anyways.

When Mayfield got sloppy or an opportunity to free themselves appeared only then would they act.

Then it'd be payback time for that BITCH.

_**The Home of C.E.O Carrie Marchant, Owner of Zeditron Industries, A Few Days Later **_

_**Carrie's POV**_

_She better not call today or my day is going to be completely ruined,_ she thought as she prepared for another busy day at the office.

For the last month straight she had received no less than five calls from fellow C.E.O Charlotte Mayfield concerning a proposal for a ten year co-venture in the field of cybernetics and robotics. At first she'd been interested since such fields did have great potential but her position changed when the copyright and profit division details came up. They almost completely slanted in the direction of Farrow-Marshall Aeronatics to the point where no rational business person would agree to such an unfair agreement. Despite the fact that she'd made it clear at the end of the first call that she and her company had absolutely no interest in the proposal, Mayfield had continued to call offering only minor adjustments to the original proposal. In the last call she'd almost completely lost her cool and told the bitch where she could stick her proposal but had kept her cool just long enough to say goodbye and hang up.

She didn't expect the woman to give up anytime soon but fortunately all it'd take would be two more calls of this nature and, according to her lawyer, she'd have grounds to file harassment charges. Once that was in place she felt confident that Mayfield would give up since there were already rumors abound of the woman's company walking a fine legal line with the government at the moment. She wasn't privy to the details but apparently the previous company C.E.O had been involved with some sort of global crime and had been arrested. That meant that Mayfield and her company were likely still under harsh scrutiny by the government and, if a harassment charge came to light, it'd only make things harder for Farrow-Marshall Aeronautics.

If Mayfield had any business sense she'd give up and focus on cleaning up her business reputation before trying anything ill advised.

_Then again, maybe it'd be nice to have her do something foolish, _she thought as she picked up her briefcase and nodded to her bodyguard. _If Farrow-Marshall starts having problems, I might be able to seize control of it and completely humiliate the bitch._

As she exited her home and got into the limo for the trip to work, though, her cell phone began to ring and, while she did consider just letting it ring, she eventually chose to answer it. There was always the possibility that it was work related and, if it was, then it could be important.

"Marchant," she said a bit brusquely as her driver began to steer the vehicle towards the front gate.

"Carrie, DARLING, I'm so glad I was able to reach you before you got to work," Mayfield's voice said through the cell phone. "I was a bit concerned that your busy day would mean I'd have to put off talking with you until tomorrow."

_Oh yeah! Definitely gonna shut this bitch down._ "One of the many burdens of a SUCCESSFUL C.E.O., Charlotte dear. Now to what do I owe this early morning call?"

"Well, I just thought I'd give you one final chance to sign on to the venture I spoke to you about before putting an end to the idea." Mayfield replied, sounding as smug as usual. "I really don't see why you're so opposed to the latest version of the deal. Granted, my company stands to benefit a bit more than yours but that's only right considering we'll be volunteering the bulk of the new designs and advancements."

As the limo pulled out onto the street and began to make its way into the city to the Zeditron building, she could only dream of Mayfield being within choking distance.

"The reason I'm opposed, Charlotte dear, is because as C.E.O of Zeditron Industries it would simply be bad for business if I agreed to your proposal. The investors alone would be calling for blood if they caught wind of me agreeing to such a one-sided arrangement and the board of directors wouldn't react much better," she explained as though speaking to an amateur fresh from business school. "After all, it's the duty of a C.E.O to run the company in such a way so as to maximize profits, minimize costs and ensure that the company has a future. Given the layout of your proposal and how it obviously favors your company to an extreme level, I would have to be rather foolish to agree to it."

"That's odd because I recently spoke to several members of the board and some of your investors and they sounded quite willing to follow the terms I laid down." Mayfield said, sounding puzzled. "In fact one said he'd try to speak with you to change your mind."

"Nice try, Mayfield, but I've established very good relations with all the important members of the Zeditron family. They trust me to lead them in the right direction," she said, not falling for the mind game. "Now unless you're willing to alter your deal to something much closer to fifty-fifty, we have nothing further to talk about."

"Indeed, I doubt we'll ever talk about ANYTHING again," Mayfield said, her tone shifting to something predatory. "Goodbye, Carrie. Give my regards to Adrian, won't you?"

With that the call was ended from the other side, leaving her to wonder about the final words of her despised C.E.O colleague and an unsettling feeling to manifest in her stomach. Surely Mayfield wasn't considering having her killed! That was certainly the most obvious way the comment about Adrian Conrad could be interpreted but, then again, it could simply be another mind game. Something to get her to jump at shadows or increase security precautions giving people the wrong idea about her as well as implying weakness.

Before she could decide on a course of action though she noticed the limo coming to a stop where it never had on her previous trips to the office.

"What's going on?" she asked the driver as she tried to look out the front windshield to see for herself.

"Looks like someone is having car trouble Miss Merchant," the driver replied promptly. "It's blocking the road so we'll either have to go another way or push it off to the side."

"You and Bernard go see if you can convince the driver to let you push it off to the side of the road," she ordered with annoyance. "I have a meeting with the board in an hour and I cannot afford to be late."

With a nod both her driver and Bernard exited the limo and walked towards the short woman who was bent over the front of the car, working on the engine with the hood being held up by a single rod. She could hear her bodyguard speaking but couldn't quite make out what he was saying due to the distance and the fact that the limo doors were closed. She guessed that her bodyguard was voicing an offer to help as well as a request to move the broken down car off to the side so the limo could get through. Strangely enough the young woman didn't seem to hear them at all and simply continued to work on her vehicle, implying that she was either deaf or was ignoring Bernard.

She watched as Bernard reached out with his right arm to try and grab the young woman's shoulder but then something happened that should not have.

In the blink of an eye her bodyguard's head and arms were separated from his body, dropping to the ground like pieces of wood, followed soon after by the rest of the body. With blood coming from the stumps of a man who'd been a valuable employee for five years her shock almost caused her to fail to register that the young woman they'd tried to help now had some kind of sword in her right hand. That, sadly, was all she was able to comprehend before the woman moved with speed that shouldn't have been possible to do to her driver what had been done to her bodyguard.

Terrified, she ducked out of view and immediately tried to use her cell phone to dial 911 so the police could come to rescue her. However, when she didn't hear the sound of the call being made, she looked at the display on her phone and found that she had no bars at all. That shouldn't have been possible given how close she was to the city and her phone was the latest frickin' model as well, with the company that made it saying it could get a signal from anywhere.

Bullshit!

Scrambling for the door that was furthest away from the bloody swordswoman she threw it open and fell to the ground. Determined to get away she spotted an alley not far away and once she got her feet under her she ran for it with all the speed she could manage. As she got eight feet into the alleyway she thought that maybe she had a chance.

Maybe she'd managed to get away.

"I'm sorry," a male voice said from above and behind her.

Before the thought to look at it could even form in her mind, it was over.

_**Xander's POV**_

Dropping from the fire escape on the second floor of the building, he landed with barely a sound and his nanosuit's HUD barely registers a decrease in energy or integrity. No surprise there considering it was designed to keep the wearer alive if dropped from heights two or three times higher up. If he'd gotten this suit years ago when Rayne first pulled this stunt, he'd probably have been overjoyed since it would've been a big help fighting vamps and demons. The ability to go invisible, to be able to lift and throw over seven hundred pounds as well as take hits from high caliber firearms without getting seriously hurt? Way cool!

_Now, though… _he thought as he looked at the lifeless body of one Carrie Merchant.

The woman he'd just killed with a single shot of his Hammer high caliber pistol.

He didn't know a whole lot about the woman other than she was the C.E.O of a company that Athena wanted to take control of and was willing to kill to get what she wanted. They'd been given basic plan and the desired conclusion but the whore had left it up to them to figure out how to make it all happen. Of course they'd been reminded of what'd happen if they didn't succeed, if they didn't do their very best, and as much as they wanted to vent their fury at the people responsible for their current existences, they knew that the time was not right. Until they found a way to independently maintain their new bodies, find a way to reverse the spell so they could get back to normal or eliminate the little surprises the bitch had surgically implanted in them, they were screwed.

Shaking off the sight before him, he opened up a comm channel to Buffy to see what sort of state she was in. "Status, Buff'?" he asked, turning away from the rapidly cooling corpse.

He didn't get a reply.

He wanted to go out there and see for himself but Athena had been adamant that nothing unusual could be connected to the deaths. The story that the local cops were supposed to buy was that the C.E.O and everyone with her had been attacked by members of the Yakuza in response to a past insult the woman had dealt one of their mid-level members during an overseas business trip. That was why Buffy had used her high frequency sword at its lowest setting and why he'd sniped Miss Merchant from where he had. It was all SOP for Yakuza retaliation but, to stack the deck even further in their favor, bits and pieces usually associated with members of that organized crime group would be left scattered about the crime scene. Not too much, though, since stacking things too much in the Yakuza direction would only make the detectives suspicious that they were being tricked for some reason.

"Buffy?" he said again, trying to get some sort of confirmation through the comm. link.

"I'M HERE!" she snapped like she wanted to introduce him to her blade. "I-I'm here Xan. God do I wish I could be anywhere else but here!"

"You and me both," he said, not liking his environment either even as he walked to a bag concealed behind a dumpster. "Still, we gotta finish the mission and get out of here before police arrive. Start scattering the 'evidence' then head for the extraction point."

"Don't you even care that we've just killed three people!?" Buffy snapped, clearly messed up enough emotionally that lashing out was a solid venting method.

"I care but I also know that now is not the time to be losing our heads. You know the situation as well as I do. At the moment there's nothing we can do. All we can do is keep ourselves alive until lady luck finally decides to send some of the good stuff out way. The thing is we're not going to be able to spot it if we're so pissed off we can't think straight. Now plant the evidence and then head to the extraction point as planned."

"…acknowledged. Over and out." Buffy said before terminating the link.

He couldn't blame Buffy because, much like her, he'd been the sort to let emotions dictate actions and, while they might've matured a bit since the good old days in Sunnydale, some parts of them hadn't changed. Right at that moment it was the soldiers in them, Prophet and Raiden, that allowed their emotions to be tempered somewhat and let them focus on the mission. There was one question that, with his inherited memories, he felt exemplified the leader of Raptor Team: what are you prepared to sacrifice? In that man's war he was prepared to sacrifice his life and his humanity to get the job done and honestly he couldn't see himself following any other route than that. It'd been his creed for as long as he could remember, to do whatever it took to keep his chosen family both happy as well as healthy, and this situation just meant he'd have to get his hands dirtier than he'd like.

He had no doubt that Mayfield would send the Scoobies on more missions in the future, ranging from corporate espionage to assassination to ruining the reputations of any who'd get in the way of her big plans. What were those plans? Probably global domination and then into space to conquer whatever was out there. Unlike who he was before the spell that had dropped a sizeable inheritance from Prophet, he was no longer disbelieving about the possibility of alien life. To him alien life wasn't just a theoretical possibility but an inevitable fact waiting to drop down on them all.

In fact, based on some of the tech he'd seen in Charlotte's possession, there was a strong possibility it already had.

_Best time to try and pull off a rebellion is whenever she plans on making her first big push, _he thought as he finished laying out the 'evidence'. _That's when she'll be most distracted with a million things going on at once._

The only question was how to get the rebellion kicked off and running but fortunately the memories he'd inherited from the previous wearer of his suit provided him with a possibility. It was far from a guarantee but it was the best idea he had so he was going to run with it, hoping the Harris luck didn't pay him a visit somewhere along the way.

He was pretty sure that the others were doing the same thing as him, working on ways to regain their freedom and exact their revenge, and as far as he was concerned the more plans the better the odds of one of them succeeding. Unfortunately in order to keep their captor in the dark they couldn't voice their plans out loud and with the security cameras he had no way to write it out on paper or use any other non-verbal method. There was a good chance that they'd trip over each other's efforts and maybe ruin everything but they had no choice until a reliable and undetectable means of communication could be acquired.

_Time to scram._ _Still, wish I'd been given a cleaner escape route, though._

Removing the sewer cover, he dropped into the sewers just as the cloaking function of the nanosuit ran out of power, causing him to fade back into visibility. He knew it'd recharge soon enough but imagined that this was why the sewer route was given to him. As handy as cloaking was for him, his suit couldn't sustain it indefinitely and movement only made it run out of juice even quicker. There would not be enough cover between his present position and the extraction point aboveground so he was left taking the route where there wasn't likely to be any people or cameras to catch a glimpse of him. Fortunately S.E.C.O.N.D. had a copy of the sewer system map so he'd have an easy time navigating through it to the extraction point. The only thing that could possibly complicate things would be if there were some changes made that hadn't made it into the official maps or if he bumped into some city maintenance workers.

_Cloaking will help me get around the maintenance workers but let's hope that the map is one hundred percent accurate._

Definitely not the grand adventure he'd momentarily dreamed up once he'd first realized that his inheritance had become permanent.

For the next six weeks missions like these continued as the Goa'uld Athena used her newly acquired pawns to help expand her corporate powerbase. Enemies would either be eliminated or converted into unwilling allies and all the while more resources would be acquired in order to feed the production lines of technology from five separate realities. Throughout these operations, though, standing orders would be followed to the letter: no abnormal evidence is to be left at the scene of the crimes and any unanticipated witnesses were to be promptly eliminated. It didn't matter what the age, gender or ethnicity they were as far as Athena was concerned. ALL WITNESSES MUST DIE.

And so blood flowed.

Flowed from the wounds of their victims.

Flowed onto their hands, their arms, their face, THEIR ENTIRE BODIES!

Needless to say sleep didn't come easily to them and when it did it only lasted a few hours at best before they woke up with rapid heartbeats and frantic gazes. Thanks to their enhancements they didn't need as much sleep as they used to so even if they only got four hours of sleep, it was still enough to keep them alert for their next mission. Given the line of work they'd been in, fighting demons and vampires and ghosts and witches, they were no strangers to nightmares but at least then the things that haunted them were enemies or victims they'd been too late to save.

Those dreams never included accusing stares from their human victims.

Those dreams never had their friends and loved ones trying to kill them like they were some kind of monster.

Those dreams never had them helplessly acting like monsters killing those they cared for with cold, precise, efficiency.

All they could do was cling to the military training of their costume's personae in order to keep functioning and take comfort in the times when they could talk amongst themselves reassuring each other that they're still who they were before the nightmare started. The one who had it the roughest though was Giles because the clock was ticking on the deadline Athena had given him for coaxing the spirit of their deceased friend Jenny Calendar, cast in the form of Cortana, out of her hiding place. Fortunately the senior Watcher had all the time he needed since he hadn't been sent on many missions and therefore could devote the majority of his time speaking to her.

Nevertheless, in the entire six weeks since Rupert Giles had started trying to reach the soul of Jenny Calendar, the man hadn't gotten so much as a single word out of the woman.

Time was running out.


	3. A Team Completed, A Calling Card Made

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the copyrighted material contained herein. They are the rightful property of their respective creators and associated companies. I make no profit off of this whatsoever and I have no intention of changing this in the future. I write because its fun and because there are those who enjoy reading my work. Therefore I would appreciate it if no team of shark-like lawyers showed up on my front step with lawsuits in hand.

Note : I realize that some of you readers are wondering why Buffy and company haven't tried to call home to get help. While I didn't explicitly say it consider this : do you really think that Athena wouldn't keep her new agents under surveillance both on base as well as off? Buffy and the others suspect this and so going to a nearby payphone is out of the question. Also keep in mind that virtually every TV show and movie have moments where we the viewers say/think 'why did they do THAT? They could have solved everything if they'd done this perfectly logical/reasonable thing'. The reason the writers of both venues do this is because if they did everything logically/reasonably then there wouldn't be nearly as much drama/entertainment/fun to be had. Also keep in mind that they have a set amount of time to fill up in most cases so having things end too soon would pose a problem.

Note 2 : I am a big believer in laying down foundation scenes for future plot twists and story arcs. Thus if you feel I am taking too long with certain segments please understand that there is a purpose to my madness even if it's a bit hard to understand.

_**Giles' POV**_

"Jenny, PLEASE! I know you're in there," he said, trying to put as much emotion as be possibly could into his voice. "I can feel the slight buzz that says you're in the data crystal chip. Say something…"

Nothing.

Nothing and it was PISSING HIM THE BLOODY HELL OFF!

Truth was he'd been pissed ever since that bint Mayfield had revealed what his 'old chum' Ethan bloody Rayne had done but now he was angry because, unless he made some respectable progress soon, the monsters in human clothing were going to hurt Jenny.

HIS JENNY!

To say it'd thrown him for a loop when the truth had been revealed would've been the bloody mother of all understatements and his first inclination had been to disregard it as rubbish. Oh, he conceded that there was something in the data crystal chip resting in the slot that was built into the back of his helmet but he hadn't believed at first that it was Jenny. As a Watcher he knew all too well what sort of magic, what kind of power, was needed in order to resurrect someone or to simply pull their soul back into the mortal realm from the afterlife. It wasn't until she'd shown him surveillance footage from the room they'd first awoken in that contained all of the prep work the chaos mage had done and the ingredients he'd used that the truth became all too real. While he didn't have access to his books or any other research resources, he recognized enough of the ingredients as well as symbols to believe that Ethan had pulled it off.

It made sense in a way.

One of the biggest obstacles to resurrecting someone was recreating or restoring their physical bodies. Plucking a soul out of heaven or hell? Easy by comparison, but what he saw in the video also clued him into HOW Jenny was ripped from the afterlife before being forced into Cortana's form. It was far from the most gentle method and, coupled with adjusting to a new digital existence, it was understandable that she'd withdrawn into herself in response. Under different circumstances he'd have taken it slow, pulled her back into the world gently, but time was not on his side.

_Think… THINK! How do I get her to react?!_ he thought as he forced his mind to devise different options. _I am no psychologist. I don't know any of the recommended methods for luring a patient that's withdrawn inside themselves due to trauma. Perhaps… perhaps it's time to take a more strategic approach._

He hated doing this, delving into the memories and skills of John One One Seven, but since Rupert Giles was having no luck then perhaps it was time to give the SPARTAN-II a try. The man had years of fighting humans before the Covenant arrived, so he had a limited knowledge of basic human psychology and a much greater grasp of battlefield psychology. In a situation where a target had holed itself up in a location impossible to penetrate there were only two possible courses of action, both of which would have the desired effect.

The first was to trick the target into thinking they had to leave their place of safety by presenting bait that they would pursue instinctively without conscious thought. This would be difficult since in a way he was dealing with two minds rather than just the one. While he believed that Jenny's mind was the more dominant of the two if his recently revived lover was experiencing the same things as the rest of them, the imprint of Cortana was a factor in how the gypsy thought and behaved. With that in mind he could try something that would catch the interest of the Cortana imprint since he'd already tried just about everything he could think of to catch Jenny's interest.

The other possible course of action was harsher and it was one he would bet good money that bloody woman Miss Mayfield was going to try if he couldn't produce results. If you can't lure your target out with a prize then you destroy its refuge, hoping that its self-preservation instincts will cause it to abandon its hiding place. He didn't hold much stock with that idea because, if Buffy's experience after her second death closing Glory's portal was any hint, a resurrected soul would welcome death since it'd be a way to return to the bliss that is heaven. While Buffy managed to work her way past the initial withdrawal symptoms, he would wager that the longer a soul remained in heaven, the more potent its siren call would be. Seeing as how it'd been almost ten years since Jenny had died compared to Buffy's few months, her current mental state could well be classified as borderline suicidal.

He was not going to risk losing Jenny again!

"Cortana, status report."

He waited a full thirty seconds for any sign of a response.

Nothing.

"This is Sierra One One Seven to UNSC artificial intelligence serial number CTN zero four five two dash nine. Requesting status report."

THERE!

It was brief but he felt the buzz that told him there was something in the crystal data chip, a flicker for a moment, and that was more than he'd gotten in the last month and a half. It also indicated that the imprint left by the Cortana personality had a strong enough influence over Jenny's soul to induce an automatic response. He had to continue along that vein, find other things that might provoke an even stronger response, and hope that when the Cortana side rose to the surface it'd bring Jenny along for the ride.

"Cortana, I need your help," he said, keeping a soldier's tone of voice. "We've been captured by unknown hostiles. Human. I've been implanted with some kind of safeguard in order to ensure obedience. I could use some help."

Another flicker.

_It's a little stronger than before but still not enough to induce speech._

"Do you remember the last thing I said to you before entering cryo-sleep, Cortana? I told you 'wake me… when you need me'," he said, hoping that the final farewell would cause a strong enough resonance to get the desired result. "I meant every word but this time I need you to wake up because I NEED YOU!"

The reaction he got was like a faint heartbeat and, when he felt another one after that, he knew he had before him the best chance to bring Jenny back to him and he wasn't going to squander it.

"I know you're probably confused and maybe a bit afraid but I promise you I'll help you through it all," he said, playing upon the most meaningful moments between the SPARTAN and the A.I in recent memory. "You know me. When I make a promise…"

He waited for the response he hoped was coming, the response that Cortana had given the Master Chief when he'd come to rescue her aboard the Covenant city of High Charity.

"…you…keep it." came a woman's voice that was an odd mixture of both Cortana's voice and Jenny's voice.

"That's right. Welcome back," he said while keeping himself, if only barely, from saying any names out loud.

All he knew was that the mind in the crystal data chip had successfully been coaxed into interacting with the outside world again. However he didn't know if it was Cortana he was talking to or Jenny or a mix of the two. Until she said something that made him believe it was Jenny who was dominant, he would have to keep what he said centered around the concept that she was Cortana.

"Glad… to be back," Cortana said, gaining strength and coherence with every word she spoke. "You said something about a safeguard?"

"Yes. Surgically implanted," he replied, resisting the temptation to rush things. "I think it's close to the neural interface. When triggered it induces varying levels of pain. The leader of the hostiles also rigged one for you but this one comes with a death sentence after a minute and a half if it's left on."

"So a collar on each of us. Options?" she asked, getting down to business and losing most of her lost person tone.

"Until we know more about how they work and how they're implanted, trying to remove them ourselves would be risky," he replied, keeping to the facts. "We have allies. Four others captured the same way and with similar restraints in place."

"Are they good?" she asked, sounding interested in learning more.

"They're not Spartans but they can fight."

"Coming from you that means they'll be good enough," she said, sounding like she liked their chances already.

Whether it was the ghost of John One One Seven in the back of his mind or something that was entirely him, he too began to feel more optimistic about their chances for freedom.

They'd find a way to win their freedom and then JUSTICE would be theirs!

_**Athena's Office, A Remote Compound, Athena's POV**_

"A promising beginning wouldn't you say, Doctor Drago?" she asked as she terminated the video feed from the room Mister Giles was in.

"Indeed, mistress. Although it may prove premature," Clark said from his own vid-window on her computer screen. "If, as it appears, that the soul of Miss Calendar truly believes she's Cortana, she might withdraw beyond all recovery when confronted with the truth."

As much as she wanted to dismiss the man's words as the meaningless worrying of a weak scientist, there was a ring of truth to his words. Many a time in her service to Ba'al she had seen humans cling to whatever delusions or lies allowed them a grip on their sanity and she was occasionally the one to expose the truth to them. While the results varied, most either accepted the truth and endured or became little more than mad fools fit only to be a host for lesser symbiotes or to become lab specimens.

In the case of Jennifer Calendar, though, the potential consequences of a psychotic break would be more than a few dead.

Since it'd been safely confirmed that the changes Mister Rayne's spell had made were indeed thorough as well as permanent, she'd begun doing her own reading into each of the people her soldiers had received an inheritance from. It was from there that she discovered that smart human artificial intelligences generally had a seven year lifespan before they descend into a state called 'rampancy', which was akin to insanity in humans. First came a state consistent with clinical depression, where the A.I becomes apathetic as well as uninterested in the world around it. Next comes a period of anger that usually occured when the smart A.I has been pushed too far mentally/emotionally, resulting in their pent up emotions being released in a fit of rage. It lashed out at everything and everyone around it, irrationally trying to exact its revenge on the world around it in order to free itself from restraints. The third stage came after the artificial intelligence got all of its anger out of its system, as well as possibly freeing itself from confinement. They would seek new stimuli and information in order to evolve as a sentient being but, with every acquisition, their hunger only grows in strength likely never to be satisfied.

If the sources she found on the internet could be believed, there was a theoretical fourth stage referred to as metastability in which the A.I could reach a state in which psychologically it can be considered fully human. Of all the artificial intelligences listed in 'Halo' canon, only two of them were believed to have reached this state: Mendicant Bias and Cortana.

_While it is true that the armor chosen for the spell was from 'Halo 3' and a hidden note was placed beneath the armor with a statement that it was from the very end of the game, that still doesn't mean anything regarding Cortana or Miss Calendar's mental state._ She weighed the possibilities._ Cortana's metastability is, after all, only theoretical, with nothing in the canon material confirming completely that she did indeed reach this state. I will have to monitor the situation carefully._

"Instruct the security staff to keep a close watch on Mister Giles and Miss Calendar," she ordered, deciding to at least take some precautions. "Also, send a message to the transport team bringing subjects Miss Lightning Bolt, Prophet, the Major and Cameron back to inform them of this development. Impress upon them the potential consequences of trying to make Cortana realize she's really Jennifer Calendar too quickly. I'd rather not have them blunder and cause the A.I to go insane."

"Understood. Is there anything else I can do for you, mistress?" Drago asked politely as he made a note on a pad of paper.

"You can tell me the status of the data analysis I ordered done on the information removed from the restraint gurneys." she replied, deciding to move onto the next most pressing matter.

It had almost been enough to make her believe in higher beings when she'd been informed of the repositories of knowledge that had been created as an unintended side effect of the chaos spell. While she had been satisfied with the information gleaned from the scans of her new soldiers, having detailed schematics would make replicating the technology that much easier. Nevertheless she'd ordered each file examined thoroughly for any sign of errors or tricks that might lead to some unpleasant explosions. While she had no reason to suspect such things, her understanding of chaos magic was that it was inherently unpredictable no matter how much say the spell caster had in its assigned purpose. It would not surprise her at all if Janus, the Roman god that powered the spell, had intentionally left flaws or incomplete information to keep things from going completely smooth.

"Yes. While there is still roughly ten percent of the total data amount to be examined, none of the department heads have been able to locate any inconsistencies or subtle signs of sabotage." Clark replied promptly without looking at any notes. "Granted, the level of technological advancement is such that some of us are hard pressed to understand some of it but we're confident in our assessments."

"How soon until production can begin on the basic technological advancements?" she asked, expecting his summation to be as such.

"Advancements in information technology, both hardware as well as software, should be ready to begin in four days. Weapons technology still requires further testing… a lab assistant lost an arm when test firing one of the assault rifle designs," Drago replied with some slight anxiety in his voice. "Defensive technologies like the Thermo-Optical camouflage and armor types are making significant progress with regards to replication but the department head believes it'll be at least a month before reliable reproductions can be manufactured. The prototypes we've made so far don't perform as well as their fictional counterparts and we were under the impression that you wouldn't be satisfied until they did.''

"You and the other others were correct. Nothing less than a perfect replication will suffice."

"The advancements that we are making the most progress in are the biological ones. Using knowledge from the data storage devices and our scans, we have successfully managed to replicate the synthetic skin of both subject Cameron and subject the Major. Preliminary testing suggests that it could be safely used for medical purposes with only minimal chances of rejection." Clark said, continuing his summation. "The white blood found in subject Miss Lightning Bolt has been successfully replicated and preliminary testing leads us to believe that it could be used as a short term substitute for regular human blood and that should help hospitals with transfusion situations. As for the cybernetic implant technology, preliminary prototypes are promising with only a little fine tuning required to resolve certain issues."

"Excellent. As soon as the information technology is ready, begin mass production and set all of them up through our new 'friend' at Colson Industries. Have him begin making offers to both the United States government as well as the military the second we have enough stock to equip half their facilities," she ordered, pleased with the status of her scientists efforts. "Only once we're well into the equipping of their facilities will we start making the advancements available to the general public. Once the defensive technologies have been successfully replicated, make sure to introduce subtle design flaws into everything sold to those outside the company. Nothing obvious. Make it something that could easily be written off by outsiders as 'the limits of modern technology' or to be expected with 'version one point zero'. We don't anyone but us to have the truly cutting edge technology now do we?"

"Of course not, mistress. I'll begin making preparations immediately," Doctor Drago said with an acknowledging nod.

"Be sure that you do. I have plans and I do not wish to reschedule them," she said before closing Clark's vid-feed window.

Indeed her plans could not afford to be delayed for too long.

While the records of the missions didn't reveal anything to indicate that suspicious information had been left behind, she couldn't afford to underestimate the Tauri or the SGC. She knew from her files on Colson Industries that the C.E.O. was aware of the SGC, the existence of aliens and Goa'uld technology. It was possible that he kept in contact with them or they with him. While her 'discussion' with Alec had made it quite clear that he was not to reveal a single word about their 'arrangement' and to act like everything was status quo, there was a chance he'd do something stupid. As for the NEW C.E.O. of Zeditron Industries, she was confident that his new level of prestige, power and wealth would keep him obedient for the foreseeable future. So long as he threw the fool a bone every once in a while, he'd comply with whatever order she gave him. At the same time those motivated by greed often became arrogant and began to think of ways of increasing their wealth even if it meant betraying the one who'd initially made them rich and powerful.

_I'll have to assign a surveillance team to him soon and, once my information technologies are installed in his company, monitor his phone calls, emails as well as other forms of communications,_ she thought as she considered how to keep him on a short leash. _If he proves too greedy there are plenty of others at Zeditron who will serve my purposes just as well._

Indeed, everyone else was ultimately expendable.

Only she mattered.

Only her glorious future and the restoration of the Goa'uld System Lords mattered.

_**Two Months Later, Briefing Room, Rocky Mountains R&amp;D Facility, Buffy's POV**_

"What do you suppose the Queen Bitch wants now?" she growled, standing with the others before the flat screen.

She always did that.

Found some sort of derogatory term to use instead of calling their new taskmaster by her preferred name. It was the only real form of fighting back that she could do now without endangering the others and even then she'd been badgered by the others to show some restraint. It was their opinion that if she went too far it'd provoke retaliation that might be survivable or might not be, depending on how pissed the slut chose to be after a few inventive names. As much as it'd curb her fun, she'd been forced to admit that they had a point: pissed baddies sometimes did things that screwed up their plans without realizing it until afterwards. That meant if she pushed the blonde bimbo too far the woman might order their termination out of rage and that would SO not be of the good. There were times when it was difficult, when she wanted to say 'to hell with it', but her desire for revenge had not become so all-consuming that she was willing to forsake her friends or her family.

YET.

"Considering the fact that for everything else she only asked for the people directly related to the mission, odds are whatever she has planned next involves all of us." Giles replied with his helmet under his arm.

One of the few positive things to come of this whole mess was the fact that Giles had gone from being a man in his mid-fifties to someone who'd just hit forty. While she hadn't said anything outright, she'd always been a bit concerned about him hurting himself whenever he chose to leave the safety of his office. As much as she appreciated him and saw him as a father figure, she knew he was old and getting older with a body that was less capable of fighting demons every day. While for the most part he stayed with his books and his means of coordinating the New Watcher Council, there were times when he stepped outside and onto the battlefield. Whether it was because there was no one else with the knowledge he had or because his concern for them insisted that he handle matters in person, she didn't know but it happened. Thankfully his old habit of getting knocked out or put in the hospital, something that had happened yearly back in Sunnydale, had been mostly kicked with only a few minor scrapes here and there.

At least at age forty he looked to be young enough to be able to take more hits than a man in his fifties.

"That means it's big. Really BIG," Xander said through the mask of his nanosuit. "I don't like it."

It bothered her that the only time Xander took off the mask of his suit when he needed to eat and made her wonder if he was capable of taking the suit entirely off. She'd asked him about it once but he'd said he didn't want to let the suit out of his sight for a moment for fear of what their 'employers' might do with it. She'd countered by saying that the scorched Earth scans they'd done and whatever they'd pulled out of their 'beds' had probably told them everything they needed to know but still he refused to take the chance. She didn't know a lot about who 'Prophet' was and what the details of the suit were due to her not being a gamer like some people she knew. All she really knew were the few bits and pieces of information that Prophet had chosen to tell her costume personae prior to the spell ending and what she'd seen him do in the field when they went on missions together. While the power cell on the thing could use a serious upgrade, it had some cool features and Xander's skill with modern weapons had gone up significantly.

Unfortunately.

"I don't either but let's try to keep things positive," Willow said in a professional manner. "Maybe we're just being sent on a snatch and grab with a large number of things to be grabbed."

Without warning the flat screen snapped on to reveal the monster responsible for the changes they'd undergone and the blood that now dripped from their hands.

The urge to verbally lash out was great indeed.

"You're quite right, Miss Rosenberg. The mission I have for the five of you is primarily a 'snatch and grab' operation. The facility you are to infiltrate contains a number of unique items that I wish to make mine." Q.B said with her usual infuriating look of confidence. "They are spread out across a rather large facility and to acquire each of them as promptly as possible will require more than one person. It will, in fact, take all five of you in order to achieve your objectives."

In the corner of a screen an aerial shot of a military complex was shown and at once she knew this'd be different.

"This facility is called Area Fifty-One and, much like it's portrayed in popular media, it is a location where the United States Military sends all extra-terrestrial technology they acquire." Whore Lady said, only occasionally looking at the aerial shot. "Your objective will be to infiltrate and acquire four objects that I desire. You will each acquire one item apiece, with the youngest Summers taking up a sniper's position with the greatest field of vision along your assigned escape route.

"For Miss Rosenberg the target will be this lovely item," Bottle Blonde said as the image of the military base was replaced with some sort of metal hand device. "It will be labeled Osiris Kara kesh and, based on my internal sources, it will be located in this part of the facility the night of the mission."

"You don't have a more precise location? That's a big building to look through," Willow said with arms crossed over her chest.

"Indeed it is. I guess you'll just have to search the entire building," Creepy Egomaniacal Overconfident woman said with a smile on her face.

She gritted her teeth at this, believing wholeheartedly that the cunt was purposefully going to make things difficult for them this time.

"For Mister Harris the target will be this," Mayfuck said as the image on the screen changed to an odd circular object that reminded her of a large button but definitely sci-fi. "There will be three of them and they will be stored here in the east wing's medium security vault. If they are not there, look for them to be listed under the term 'mimetic imaging device' and you should have no trouble finding them."

"For Miss Summers the target will be at least two of these devices," Call Girl said as the image changed to something that looked like a metal squid or jellyfish. "They will be stored in the maximum security vault which will be under guard as well as a wide variety of electronic surveillance. Do not let these obstacles deter you from accomplishing your objective. RIP them apart if you must."

At these words she didn't much care if she was growling or not, the whore on the screen was making it all but certain that she'd be ending the lives of innocent soldiers.

"Mister Giles, though, will have the heaviest of the burdens to extract if only slightly less secure than the drones Miss Summers will be acquiring," Queen Bitch said as the image changed to some sort of sci-fi Lay-Z-Boy recliner. "It will be referred to as a Control Chair or Lantean Control Chair in the records, but given its appearance I doubt you'll have difficulty finding it."

"Yes. Quite recognizable," Giles said shortly with some serious dry wit.

"Infiltration will be done starting at the base's perimeter fence. Once you reach the building entrances closest to your objectives you will send out a single strong signal pulse. At this point a team separate from your own will cut communications for Area Fifty-One, both wired and wireless. Normally the United States Military will attempt for a full ten minutes to re-establish contact with one of their bases before sending anyone to investigate but, as you can imagine, Area Fifty-One is a tad more valuable. For their Groom Lake facility they try for no more than five minutes before dispatching a force to investigate. Leading the way will be two F-16 Fighting Falcon aircraft but three minutes behind them will be two UH-1Y Venom helicopters, with an AH-64 Apache for escort. All of the aircraft are fully armed and each Venom will be carrying a squad of well-armed Green Berets who will be under orders to secure the facility and neutralize any hostiles. At best you'll have half an hour before they arrive from the moment the communications blackout begins." Whore Lady explained with visual aids appearing in the upper right hand corner. "The Groom Lake facility also possesses two squadrons of F-302s for defense against airborne threats. Those will need to be dealt with before the extraction vehicle can approach and land. Since Mister Harris' target is closest to their location, it will be his job to plant explosives on at least half of them in order to induce a chain reaction destroying them all. Once all objectives have been acquired you will all rendezvous at the extraction point, detonate the F-302s and leave. Any questions?"

"I take it the rules are the same as always when it comes to body count?" Xander asked, sounding as cold as ice.

"From the time the mission starts to the moment you acquire your target items, you are to exercise discretion but not at the expense of speed," Queen Cunt replied with more seriousness than arrogance. "Once you have what I want, though, get it to the extraction point undamaged no matter what the cost. NO MATTER WHAT!"

"Understood," Xan stated, sounding even colder than before, if that was at all possible.

"Good. You'll depart in one hour," Queen Bitch said, preparing to dismiss them. "I suggest you get your information packets and select the necessary tools by then. Goodbye."

With that the flatscreen television turned off, leaving them to their own devices until the departure time.

"So… what do you think the odds are that they've got non-lethal weapons in the armory?" Xander asked, trying to find a silver lining in the whole mess.

"Not very good," Giles replied, not realizing it was a rhetorical question. "While it is possible, considering there would have to be missions involving abduction, I doubt that they'll be made available to us. Miss Mayfield doesn't strike me as being very… merciful."

"Oh, I think she knows what mercy means," she said with a cynical snap. "I just think that her definition and our definition don't match."

"I think you're onto something there, Buff,." Xander said, a bit of his own cynicism showing. "Still, until we find a way to get our 'collars' off, we have no choice but to obey."

"Yeah," she growled, making her discontent clear.

"Patience, Buffy. Patience," Giles said, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Patience can bring down the strongest empire, can cause great cities to crumble and make enemies grow careless."

"I know but since when has patience ever been my strong suit?" she asked with a sardonic half smile.

"True," Giles said with a matching smile.

_**Hours Later, One Hundred Yards From the Perimeter Fence of Area Fifty-One, Willow's POV**_

_**This is the Major,**_ she thought into her cyber-comm to the others. _**I'm in position. Status?**_

_**This is Prophet. Position reached.**_Xander said directly into her mind via his comm device. _**Ready for penetration.**_

_**Raiden also in position,**_ Buffy thought through her cybernetic communications system.

_**John One One Seven in position.**_ Giles said into her mind via his armor's communications system.

_**Cameron in position,**_ Dawn said via her comm-set.

_**Then mission is a go,**_ she thought using the HUD of her eyes to verify the status of her camouflage. _**See you guys at the extraction point.**_

With that she shut down the encrypted comm channel and proceeded towards the electrified fence. This penetration point had been chosen because of its distance from the various security cameras along the perimeter since it would reduce the odds of anyone watching seeing the effect her feet had on the environment. With a leap that almost seemed natural to her now she made it over the fence and landed on the other side with a puff of dirt and a slight sound to mark her landing. Using the specialized head gear she'd been given, she was instantly able to see the minefield that had been laid out for a good five hundred yards inward from the fence. It wouldn't be easy to make her way through them since, by design, a minefield was meant to be difficult to make it through to the other side.

Still she'd fare a better chance than most people since she could see where they'd been buried.

Moving like a cross between a ballerina and a Olympic gymnast, she made her way through the minefield, sometimes only letting the balls of her feet touch the ground while other times there was enough room to put her entire foot down. A part of her actually found this to be kinda fun since, never in all her years had she been all that athletically inclined, but she didn't let the sensation interfere with her actions. Screwing up at this point would result in her prosthetic body getting blown into hamburger and likely cause some nasty consequences to be dealt out by C.E.O. Charlotte Mayfield.

Whether or not she'd be around for those consequences… it'd all depend on how lucky she turned out to be.

It took about five minutes of fast flipping, jumping and tip toeing but she eventually made it through the minefield to the other side. Breaking into a good run, she made her way to the door she'd be using to gain entry into the building, detouring only when she needed to in order to maintain a safe distance from patrol guards. Thermo-Optical camouflage did make a person invisible in Motoko's world but she wasn't about to take any reckless chances with the mission. Until it was proven otherwise, she'd operate under the assumption that if she got too close to a person or a camera there'd be visual distortions that could be seen. She didn't know how close was too close so she put fifteen feet as the minimum distance she'd be willing to get to anyone at this facility before acquiring her target. It slowed her down a little bit but she still managed to reach her entryway within an acceptable amount of time.

Once she was in front of the door that'd let her inside the building where her target was located, she took out the crypt-breaker that'd take care of the keypad lock. Sliding it into place, she waited for the sound that indicated that it'd successfully unlocked the door while keeping her auditory organs tuned for any sign of approaching people. It took less than a minute but it felt like hours before the tone reached her ears but, when it did, she put the crypt-breaker back into her equipment pouch before opening the door. Firing off the signal pulse as she'd been instructed, she slipped inside quickly in order to ensure that the door did not remain open for longer than necessary.

_So far, so good,_ she thought as she could spot no sign of other people in the area with her eyes or her ears. _Now to get an idea of where my target is._

According to the information packet she'd reviewed, the device was no longer an active object of examination but for tonight was being examined by one of Area Fifty One's specialists in the field of Goa'uld technology. It was apparently an off and on sort of thing whenever the man had some spare time away from more pressing technological examinations. The name she'd been given was Doctor Leonard Denning so, as she proceeded down the hallway, she kept on the lookout for anything with that name. At the same time she kept watch for any helpful signs and looked into the windows of every lab for someone matching Denning's picture.

"All stations: alert status has been raised to level four." Came an announcement over the Personal address system. "External communications are no longer possible. All security teams move to alert status."

_Better pick up the pace._ She quickened to a light jog. _The clock is ticking. T-minus thirty minutes._

It was right before she'd almost been ready to try hooking into the facility's network that she finally hit paydirt in the form of a slightly chubby man in a lab coat. He'd just exited a room and on a tray in his hands was the very item she'd been tasked with acquiring. It was a stroke of good luck and not one that she was going to pass up. Slipping up behind him, she pulled her Seburo M5 from its holster and pressed it against his back.

Hard.

"Act normal. Do not make a sound," she said while still camouflaged. "Do as I say and you'll live to see another day."

She really didn't want to hurt or kill him but she had to make him believe otherwise, lest he get any ideas of screaming and running for help. Feeling him freeze up, she waited to see how stupid he was and was relieved to find out he was smart enough not to do anything stupid.

"Act as though you forgot something back in the room you just came out of and go back into it," she said while making sure her gun stayed pressed up against the man's back.

Watching the man do a minimally shaky job of playing the role of a forgetful scientist, she allowed him to lead the way back into the room. Once inside she let the door slide shut and looked about the room for any sign of cameras and found only one in the corner. Thankfully it didn't look like it had a microphone built into it so it'd be video only, making her job that much easier.

"Sit back down where you were working and make it look as though you're looking for something. I'm going to remove the barrel of my gun from your back but don't think for a second that it won't be aimed at your head the entire time. Play nice and everyone'll go home happy."

Pulling back her gun, she watched as the man did as she asked and then moved towards the camera, taking out what she'd been told had been named a 'ghost eye' box. It was what she'd used at Colson Industries so she was familiar with how to use it and in less than two minutes it was in place, feeding false video to the facility's security room. It wouldn't fool anyone, even the most absent minded doctor could find something eventually, but by the time anyone clued in she'd be long gone. Still, she set the device's self-destruct option to kick in twenty minutes since by that time she expected to be outside the building heading for the extraction point.

Moving back over where the good doctor was still pretending to be looking for something, she got up behind him and returned the barrel of her gun to his back.

"You're doing good, doctor," she said, trying to offer what comfort she could. "Hand me the hand device SLOWLY."

The man picked up her target and slowly lifted it until it was next to his head.

Taking it from him, she quickly and ruthlessly hit him on the back of the head with the butt of her gun, knocking the man out cold. She had a feeling that Athena would likely say she should have killed the man but that was unnecessary from her point of view. She had the target and the doctor hadn't seen her at all, so there'd be nothing he could tell his superiors when he regained consciousness. The ghost eye would self-destruct, destroying that piece of evidence, so killing an innocent man was unnecessary.

Turning off the camouflage long enough to put the target item into a pouch strapped to her waist, she turned it back on before slipping out of the room. She'd almost managed to convince herself that the mission just might be able to finish without anyone getting hurt when alarm klaxons began to sound, along with flashing red warning lights.

"Intruder alert! Repeat! Intruder Alert!" came the voice of someone in the security room. "Unknown hostile at max security vault! All security teams in close proximity report to the max security vault! All other locations increase alert status one level! Possibility of additional hostiles assumed!"

_Damn! Buffy must've lost her patience and decided to go for the direct approach,_ she thought as she picked up the pace to get to the extraction point.

While some might think that stealth was no longer necessary now that all the alarms had sounded, she wasn't about to drop her camouflage any sooner than she had to. While her prosthetic body might put her above most things, bullets and explosives weren't among them and she couldn't risk her target item being damaged or destroyed.

Mayfield had made it clear that the safe retrieval of the hand device was top priority, so this was only following those orders.

She'd be lying if she said that a part of her didn't want to go and help her friend but the building with the maximum security vault was simply too far away for her to reach in time to do any good.

She'd just have to have faith in her friend to make it out alive, relatively unharmed and with as few lives on her conscience as possible.

_**Xander's POV**_

_Shoulda known things were going too smoothly!_ he thought with a curse as he pulled the SCAR assault rifle from the magnetic holster on his back. _At least I got the goods first._

Indeed he'd put the circular sci-fi chips into the nanosuit's built-in ammo pouches two minutes ago and had been sneaking his way towards the extraction point. It hadn't been easy given how limited the cloaking ability was and how it needed a recharge every once in a short while, but with careful observation and some lucky blind spots he'd managed. Still, he'd had to make every erg of energy count in order to ensure security didn't clue in to his presence, so in a way it was almost a relief that the stealth portion of the game had been cut short. Now he could get to where he needed to go without all the stressful sneaking about.

He was close enough to the maximum security vault that he could hear the gunfire as the soldiers moved to bring Buffy down but he wasn't worried about her. He'd seen how fast she was in her cyborg body, so dodging bullets and grenades would be child's play for her. True, it'd have been nicer if Mayfield had given his friend an armored backpack to put those drone things into but that wasn't what Buffy had to work with. She just had to deal with your standard army infantry backpack that was decidedly not bullet or frag proof, meaning the platinum blonde Slayer would have to most likely eliminate the opposition before she could leave with her target. Sure, she could try to run for it and hope that zigging and zagging like a madwoman would safeguard the drones, but running wasn't his friend's style. The only time he'd ever seen her run was when she was confronted with something she couldn't pound, slice or pierce and there were precious few things that fit that category especially now.

While he'd like to think that she hadn't been so changed by what they'd been through since their transformations that killing humans no longer bothered her, he knew from his own experience that it wasn't as… disturbing as it'd been in the beginning. He still didn't want to take lives unless he absolutely had to but he no longer felt the need to throw up when looking at the bullet riddled bodies he was responsible for making. He knew, though, that each life he took would chip away at him and, assuming they managed to free themselves from Mayfield, he'd have to dedicate himself to saving three times as many lives to atone for what he'd done. It was his own variation of the threefold rule Giles had told him about once but he'd rigged it to be what a person needed to do when committing a serious wrong.

He didn't know how it'd look in the eyes of God the Almighty but he hoped it'd at least keep him out of hell, since he was pretty sure there'd be some demons there looking for a bit of fun at his expense.

Probably a few dominatrix-inclined succubae, too, knowing his luck.

As he heard the fighting heat up in the direction of the maximum security vault, his confidence in his friend being able to get out of there in relatively good condition began to go down. He'd played 'Metal Gear Solid Four', so he knew how fast Raiden had been in his cyborg body and Buffy's body matched that fairly accurately. Sadly he knew that even with such a good body it was possible to be overwhelmed by numbers, especially since Buffy would no doubt be reluctant to use lethal force or even draw blood. If she racked up enough damage she wouldn't be able to make it to the extraction point unaided and he didn't want to even think about what Athena might do in light of that.

_Goddamit!_ he thought as she changed the direction from the extraction point to Buffy's position. _Gotta end this quick! We've got less than twenty minutes before we gotta be outta here!_

Keeping the SCAR at the ready, with his eye looking down the gun sight, he proceeded down the hallways in the direction of the fighting, being ever-ready to deal with opposition. He moved as quickly as he dared to without going so fast he could possibly walk foolishly into the crosshairs of the military guards. Seeing an intersection up ahead, he was almost ready to call it clear in his head when a team of three soldiers came into view and he knew what he had to do.

**MAXIMUM ARMOR.** spoke the A.I known as SECOND before the nanosuit configured itself for defense.

Going for as clean a death as he could manage, he fired bursts into the hearts of the soldiers, causing them to jerk from the impacts of the bullets while blood sprayed out from their bodies behind them. Watching them drop to the ground, he almost let a shudder go through him but instead firmed up and pressed onward towards the vault. It was a few minutes later that he arrived and what he saw let him know that his help was indeed needed and that Buffy was going to need some serious emotional support when everything was over.

All about the room outside the vault there were bodies on the ground, with some having been run through while others had suffered lost limbs and some had been cut clean in two. Looking at the vault doors themselves, he could see where his friend had used her high frequency blade to cut her own doorway into it. The edges of the cuts were just now beginning to lose the orange glow that always followed the use of a high frequency blade and the bodies of three guards lay dead beside the hole. As for the current struggle, Buffy was closer to the center of the room using her blade to deflect or destroy incoming fire from the eight soldiers firing on her. It was clear that Buffy was at the limits of what she could safely handle and was beginning to feel the strain as denoted by the fact that spots of white blood were showing up more and more as the seconds passed from bullet lacerations.

Before the eight guards could turn some of their fire on him, he went full auto with his SCAR assault rifle. In under six seconds the guards that had been pressing Buffy so hard were dead, leaving them free to walk away from this horrible situation. Reloading his rifle just in case, he walked over to Buffy, who was looking about the room like she didn't want to believe that they'd done what they'd done. Her Slayer instincts, her beliefs as a person, must have been tearing her up inside but, as much as he'd like to, he couldn't wait for her to pull herself back together.

"Raiden, we gotta go. Clock's ticking."

At his words she snapped her head in his direction before both her visor and her solid eye units retracted, letting him see her eyes clearly. The whirlwind of emotions he could see only confirmed what he'd thought and made him personally make a note to double his efforts to figure out a way to get Athena's leashes off of them, ASAP. If this sort of thing went on for too long, it would change his longtime friend in ways he didn't want to see her change.

"The best thing we can do to save lives now is to be elsewhere," he said, trying to plead his case. "As long as we're here they'll have to shoot at us and as long as they have to shoot at us we'll have to fight back. So grab your targets and let's get to the extraction point."

As a sort of battle focus appeared in her eyes, she nodded once before running back into the vault she'd penetrated, reemerging moments later with a large infantry backpack bulging with its cargo. With her encumbered by her cargo, he used military hand gestures that he'd take point to clear a path while she brought up the rear protecting her cargo.

Moving with the purpose they did have, they made their way outside with him dispatching any guards that took up problematic positions. As for those he didn't catch, they dropped every couple of seconds with a loud ka-kow, heralding their heads exploding as a high caliber sniper round he'd wager went through their skulls. Dawn was obviously using her sniper rifle to great effect, taking care of any soldiers he either missed or wasn't in a position to do anything about. While he appreciated the cover she was providing, he hoped she didn't wait too long before making for the extraction point herself since by his reckoning they had ten minutes before a response group from Creech AFB arrived. While Dawn-patrol might not show it, he was sure that her soul was being affected by all this just as much as the rest of them and the less blood she had to put on her hands, the easier it'd be for them to help her cope afterwards.

A few minutes later he and Buffy reached the extraction point, immediately taking up a defensive position with the latter's items behind them. Without even saying anything he took up the offense while Buffy focused on defense, them waiting for the remaining two members of their group to show up. Employing every bit of marksmanship he could muster, he did his best to keep any kills as painless and as quick as he could manage.

"Prophet to Cameron. We can hold things here. Leave the nest and hook up with us. Extraction is happening soon and you need to be here."

"Acknowledged. Leaving nest and proceeding to extraction point," Dawn said with no emotion whatsoever.

His eyes cringed in response but he didn't let it affect his aim.

They'd figure out a way to get her back to normal sooner or later.

Preferably sooner.

"You guys get your target items?" Willow asked as she dropped her thermo-optical camouflage, taking up a defensive position similar to his with her pistol.

"Yep. Just waiting on the Chief," he replied as he ventilated two more skulls. "Wonder what's taking him."

"Well, he does have the largest item of the four of us to get out of there," she said as she took down her own targets. "I'm sure he'll be along soon."

An explosion that tore apart a wall belonging to one of the larger buildings of the complex. It didn't take long for the cause to be revealed as, moments later, an engine roar preceded the emergence of a truck barreling through the flames, heading for the extraction point. In the driver's seat, looking none the worse for wear, was Giles and, from the looks of things, the Spartan's weight was almost more than the vehicle could handle. Any heavier and the truck's frame would probably be scraping along the concrete for about three seconds before the wheels broke off. He could see some kind of techno chair in the back of the truck but, before he could become concerned about it being damaged, a stray bullet revealed something interesting.

Some kind of energy bubble was surrounding the chair, protecting it from incoming fire.

_So that's what the tube thing was,_ he thought, remembering what Giles had taken from the armory before they'd left on the mission. _I didn't think Mayfield had gotten that far with production._

It worried him.

How long before she had enough tech and weapons made for the big push that'd put her into the global spotlight for all to see?

_I just hope that we can slip the leashes Mayfield put on us in time to stop things before they go too far._ _Otherwise 'Judgment Day' is coming early this year._

_**Giles' POV**_

"You just had to blow something up, didn't you?" Cortana asked through the speakers on the inside of the helmet.

"Stealth wasn't an option anymore and the clock was ticking," he replied as he brought the truck to a halt just in front of the extraction point. "I took the shortest route available."

"And the fact that you could blow something up had NOTHING to do with it?" Cortana asked in a tone that made her opinion clear.

"I never said that," he replied, admitting that it had been somewhat fun to fire the R.P.G. at the wall.

While his opinion of American cinema was low, for the most part there had been a few films that he'd enjoyed and one or two of those had been action films with many an explosion to be had. Imitating a scene from one of those films was fun but he hadn't been lying when he said it'd been the most efficient way to get to the extraction point. When he'd chosen to load the chair onto the truck, it'd been even more imperative to create a big opening for it. Now that he was where he needed to be, all that was left was loading everything and everyone into their extraction vehicle then leaving before the response team arrived in… five minutes.

Looking at the others, he was pleased to see that they had successfully acquired their requisite target items, though, thanks to Buffy, things had gotten quite a bit louder than it could've been had she exercised some strategy and stealth. Then again he guessed asking her to behave in such a manner would be akin to getting Xander to cease calling him that god forsaken nickname for good. An impossibility without some life altering event taking place to change how they viewed the world, as well as themselves, but it could be said that that had already happened. After all, what else could you call having their bodies transformed, mind imprints that mingled with their own native minds, put through torturous examinations and then forced to commit horrible acts. Such things would change many people but he considered all of them to be fortunate in that they still retained much of who they'd been before Ethan had cast the spell.

Most of them had, anyway.

"So where's our way outta here?" Xander asked before detonating the explosives placed on Area Fifty-One's aircraft, presumably on his approach to the main buildings. "I'm assuming it's by air because there's no way we're outrunning pursuit on the ground."

"Look up, Prophet," came an unknown voice through the comm system.

Deciding it couldn't hurt, he looked up into the sky but never in his imaginings did he expect to see what he saw becoming visible as a scaled cloak of invisibility went to pieces, revealing an aircraft he had no trouble recognizing.

"A PELICAN!?" Cortana exclaimed as the dropship descended from above.

This was not something he'd been expecting when he'd originally discovered where precisely they'd be picked up at and the others were as shocked as he was given their expressions. A cargo plane or something else capable of landing, taking on the load necessary and taking off with the limited amount of time they had left before the response group arrived would've been more reasonable than this. Obviously their 'employer' was much further along in understanding, replicating and employing what she'd gained from her scientists' actions than had originally been presumed by the group. To have a working Pelican and equip it with cloaking technology… this did not bode well for the future. According to John's memories, the UNSC had methods of rendering vessels invisible but nothing smaller than a Prowler could house and power the device. He could only presume that, after studying the cloaking technology employed in the universes where John-117, Major Kusanagi, Prophet and Raiden came from, Athena managed to devise her own that could be used on a Pelican.

_While disturbing, this will at least ensure that we make it out of the area before the response team from Creech Air Force Base arrives,_ he thought as the aircraft touched down on the ground. _But what is that large cargo container hanging from the back?_

It was huge, barely small enough to fit on the back of the aircraft, and when it was released from the Pelican it cracked the concrete, implying that what was inside was very heavy. After that the Pelican hovered forward a couple of feet to allow the rear hermetic door to lower to the ground so they could get on board. A single man walked down the hatch door, ignoring them completely and going straight for the cargo container doors. Curious, he almost thought of taking a look but, as a particularly loud volley of gunfire ripped through the air, he decided instead to prioritize getting the target items on board the Pelican. Getting out of the truck he'd commandeered, he went to the rear of the vehicle and took hold of the odd looking chair before using the strength of the Mjolnir armor to lift it up.

Moving as quickly as he dared, he walked up the hatch-ramp into the Pelican, noticing immediately that the most of the seats usually used by infantrymen or other passengers had been removed. Most likely to make room for the items Mayfield had asked them to since, if all the seats had been left in, it'd be an awkward fit. Setting the chair down, he turned around to see Buffy setting the sack containing her targets on the floor of the aircraft while the others piled theirs on top. It was as the others began to take their seats that he noticed the man from before returning from the cargo crate with quite a bit of speed in his step. This only added to his curiosity and confusion because, while he agreed that haste was required given the time they had left, surely the cloaking device the Pelican had would be of great help.

"Alright! Get us outta here, Vickers!" the man said as he made his way to the cockpit entrance. "We've got one minute to make five kilometers so let's haul ass!"

_One minute? Five kilometers!?_ _What could they fear that runs on a timer and requires that they get five kilometers away quickly? What..._

The first thing he considered was maybe a nuke but the sort of weapons that would have a five kilometer blast radius wouldn't need a cargo container to transport it. An example would be the W54 used with the Davy Crockett delivery system that had a minimum safe distance of a little over a kilometer. It was small enough that it could be carried out or fired from a distance and he seriously doubted that Miss Mayfield would waste a cargo container on it.

Again and again he tried to figure out the truth even as he watched Dawn finish strapping herself into her seat with mechanical speed and precision. It was only when he considered the possibilities born of the technology stolen from bodies and databases that did not belong to Mayfield that he stumbled upon a horrific possibility. Looking back out the rear hatch just before the container disappeared from view, his fear spiked as the size of the container matched a device his mind didn't want to believe was in there. It was inconceivable! To use something like that, HERE, it was overkill taken to ridiculous heights and was not necessary.

No. That was not true.

With the appearance of the Pelican to the troops of Area Fifty-One, there was a reason for deploying it if the minimum of information was to make it out of the area. They could never hope to kill every set of eyes on the base before they got clear and the news of Pelican would be precisely the sort of thing Athena would not want getting out.

Granted, if what he suspected was true, the content of the container wouldn't exactly be subtle either but it'd leave less for an investigation team to work with.

"You lot might want to buckle up and hold on tight," he said to the others as he took his own seat and strapped in.

Unlike John One One Seven, he wasn't going to risk being thrown about the interior of the aircraft if things got dicey and the Pelican crashed.

"Why?" Buffy asked with a bit of curiosity.

"Because if I'm right in about thirty seconds there's going to be a sudden and massive displacement of air that'll cause this craft to shake like a maraca," he replied after he finished securing himself.

"That sounds bad." Xander said in perfect deadpan.

"Actually that's the best case scenario," Cortana said, sounding as concerned as he did.

"And the worst case scenario would be…?" Willow asked, almost sounding like she didn't want to know the answer.

"Vaporized or displaced into another dimension." Cortana replied as though she was relating the weather.

"REDLINE THIS FUCKER!" Xander yelled at the pilots, knocking on the wall separating the rear of the ship from the cockpit.

"WHADDAYA THINK I'M DOIN'!?" yelled the pilot, who sounded as tense as the rest of them were at the moment. "HOLD ON!"

Second by second he waited but, when it finally happened, even he was taken by surprise with regards to just how violently the Pelican shook. He could only imagine how things looked on the outside but he could guess based on the memories he'd inherited from Spartan One One Seven.

The Master Chief had only seen it happen once, in orbit over Reach, but he imagined that a slip space rupture in the atmosphere of a planet would be decidedly different. After all, displacing that much matter and air in an instant would create a significant void that nature would hasten to fill in, disrupting the surrounding atmosphere significantly. All that had been visible in orbit of Reach had been an orb of darkness and purple light that popped into existence and then nothing but a third of a ship on either side, with nothing in the middle but empty space. Inside the atmosphere, though, there would be other visible signs following the collapse of the slip space rupture and it would leave any who saw it dumbfounded. Even those that were familiar with magic would be hard pressed to explain what was going on outside and, even if the sight itself was a breach of Mayfield's secrecy rules, there'd be nothing to examine.

No clues to be found.

As the Pelican began to steady itself and the turbulence caused by the displacement of air abated, the lights in the craft shifted from the normal white to red. This likely meant that the cloaking system had re-engaged, causing them to vanish from all conventional senses, both organic as well as electronic. Unless something truly unforeseen happened, it'd be smooth sailing from here on out.

Not that that mattered all that much to him or he suspected the others.

Like the others he'd done everything he could to minimize casualties at the facility by doing everything possible to avoid witnesses. They killed only when they were spotted, using the technology like his armor's HUD to escape and evade American soldiers every step of the way. It hadn't been easy for him, given his new size and his target, but the memories of Master Chief Petty Officer Spartan One One Seven served him well. He was certain that the others had likewise utilized their new skills to the fullest but now all their efforts had been reduced to nothingness. Every piece of matter within five kilometers of the cargo container had been cast into oblivion, including every man and woman inside Area Fifty-One.

"Anyone else feel like crap right now?" Xander asked, sounding like he knew full well what had been done to their efforts to preserve life.

No one answered but they all knew the answer to the question.

_**The Edge of the Groom Lake Crater, C&amp;C Tent, Lieutenant General Jack O'Neil's POV**_

_**Five Hours Later**_

_Well, there's something you don't see every day._ He looked at the camera feed from the chopper that was descending into the crater that'd replaced Area Fifty-One to see just how deep it was. _Considering some of the stuff I've set eyes on, that's saying something._

Indeed it had been a little over four and a half hours ago that he'd been just about to head to bed after a particularly long day of paperwork and meetings when his phone had rung. Going over to it, he hadn't even been able to fire off a comment like 'this better be important or you will be reassigned to the ass end of the galaxy' before the lieutenant on the other end had spoken. All she'd said was one single sentence but that'd been enough to make him hold his tongue which, considering his habit of being a tad mouthy and witty, surprised even him.

'General O'Neill Area Fifty One is gone.'

Naturally he'd asked for clarification but the lieutenant had told him that nothing more could be said over the phone since this was a DEFCON three situation and asked that he return to the Pentagon for more information. Naturally he'd agreed and had left five minutes later after getting his uniform back on, all the time wondering what could've caused a two level jump in America's defense condition. However it wasn't until he'd arrived at the Pentagon and been escorted to a briefing room usually used for very important and classified meetings that the seriousness of the situation hit him. Sitting at the table in various states of rumpled dress was the complete list of Homeworld Command senior staff as well as the secretary of defense, Robert Gates. After the minimum of pleasantries were issued, they got right to the briefing on the current crisis and, the second an image of a massive crater showed up on the projection screen, he knew things were as serious as they could get.

He learned how five and a half hours ago all communication with the Groom Lake facility had ceased both in terms of conventional landlines along with wireless communication. For the predetermined five minutes all attempts were made to re-establish contact but, when those met with failure, a response team was dispatched from Creech Air Force Base to investigate. However, when the response group was just about to cross the five kilometer mark, a black sphere of unknown origin manifested, swallowing all but the rearmost chopper. Even then, though, the pilot of the chopper had been forced to make an emergency landing and the reason for that became apparent when the next image appeared on the projection screen. It showed that the nose of the chopper was completely gone and it looked almost like it'd been sliced off with some kind of energy beam, given the cleanness of the cut and the fact that the metal still glowed a bit.

The surviving chopper crew and occupants had called in what'd happened, asking for reinforcements, and they had been sent but a preliminary look at the crater revealed some disturbing facts. It was ten kilometers in diameter and at the very least the edges had been exposed to temperatures hot enough to turn the ground to glass. Even these few facts were enough to cause him concern and he could tell that the others were worried as well, given the possibly implications given the level of security put in place at Area Fifty One. According to some paperwork in the folders each of them had in front of them, nothing amongst the current inventory of alien technology possessed power enough to create such massive damage. This combined with the loss of communication lent a lot of support to the idea that there had been an alien attack of some sort but none of the alien races they were aware of possessed the capability to do something like this. The Goa'uld System Lords were gone, with most of their lesser kind scattered and powerless with the Free Jaffa Nation hunting them down at even the slightest hint of their presence. The Asgard were extinct in this galaxy along with most of their technology and their relatives, the Vanir, were off in the Pegasus Galaxy, removing them from being an issue.

Basically any galactic power that might've had the firepower to pull this off were either too far away to be guilty of the act or had been reduced to mere shadows of their former selves.

This meant it could only be a new threat and, given this first example of what the unknowns were capable of, it now made perfect sense to go to DEFCON three.

Once all relevant information had been laid out and the assembled persons had discussed the matter, he'd been told to use every available resource to find out who did this, what their goal was and do whatever it took to neutralize the threat. To that end he'd placed two calls and then hopped on the fastest jet available to get to the edge of what'd been named the Groom Lake Crater. Most people would say that, as a Lieutenant General, he didn't need to go there in person and could just sit in his office after making a few phone calls to send someone else to investigate, but they'd be forgetting one very important fact:

He HATED being stuck in his office with PAPERWORK!

He'd touched down at the nearest airstrip half an hour ago and now was getting his first real look at the crater firsthand.

The pictures didn't do it justice.

Hearing footsteps approaching, he looked away from the video feed and smiled as he saw one Colonel Samantha Carter walking up to him. Though his old second in command didn't know it, yet he knew through the grapevine that there was a good chance that she'd be promoted to Brigadier General within the next six months. However, as good as the promotion would be, he knew that she was always happiest when she was in the lab with some kind of new techno gizmos to figure out. Bitterly figuring out how the hell someone had managed to wipe the Groom Lake facility out of existence would be tainted by the lives lost. He knew that many of scientists that had been lost had been recommended for their positions by Carter and that she'd worked with many of them on various projects. He had little doubt that, even if he hadn't used his authority to get her assigned to the investigation, she'd have come on her own to figure out what the hell had happened.

Much like him, when some bastards killed a lot of friends, she made it her personal mission to help gain some payback.

"Good to see you again, Carter," he said as he turned fully towards her. "I wish it were under better circumstances."

Seeing the look of simmering anger in the blonde's eyes grow stronger as her eyes took in the crater, he almost pitied the person or persons responsible for this devastation.

"Same here, sir," she said, keeping things professional for now as she stopped two or so feet from him. "Have the teams learned anything new?"

"Not really. They've got people walking the edges with every hand held sensor we've got and there's a chopper trying to find out how deep it is but nothing else," he replied, not delving too deep into the science mumbo-jumbo.

"That's it? It's been hours since the event!" she exclaimed angrily at the less than satisfactory answer. "Have they even figured out how this happened!?"

"Not a lot. They found out where the unknowns cut the landlines, both above and below ground, and it looks like whoever did this melted through the connections," he replied, trying to give his former second-in-command something to cool her down.

"Melted? Not cut or blown up?" she asked as her mind devoured the data.

"Yep. Haven't seen the spot myself but the inspection teams sounded pretty sure of themselves," he replied glad to see something distracting her from her anger. "According to them it didn't look like they bothered to dig it up. More like weapons fire according to the team leader on site."

"Staff weapons? Ori weaponry?" she asked, obviously thinking of the most likely possibilities.

Of all the non-terrestrial threats to Earth, rogue Jaffa or remnants of the Ori army seemed the most likely to have been responsible for this but it didn't mesh in his mind.

"No. The team leader has been briefed on SGC threats and one of his people spent some time at the SGC. They know what a staff blast can do and the Ori never had anything capable of doing this." He shook his head. "If they did I doubt we'd still be here."

With some frustration he knew that Carter agreed with him.

Most of the Ori weaponry capable of this level of destruction were mounted on their ships and, if there'd been one in orbit, they would've seen it coming when they entered the system. Even with a cloaking device they'd have picked it up one way or another so he didn't think it was them.

However, if rogue Jaffa, a Goa'uld with delusions of grandeur and the Ori weren't responsible, then who was?

"General O'Neill! Radiation teams have found something!" came the call of one of the little people in charge of managing all the comm traffic.

"Care to be a bit more specific than that?" he asked as both he and Carter walked over to the speaker.

"According to what they're picking up it's not harmful but one of the team leaders says he thinks it might actually be Hawking radiation."

"But that's impossible!" Carter blurted out even as he could see the gears whirring behind her eyes.

"Impossible why?" he asked, figuring it'd be easier on her if she talked it out verbally rather than keeping it inside her head.

"Sir Hawking radiation is a theoretical form of radiation thought to be released by black holes due to the quantum effects near the event horizon. But it's all theoretical at the moment!" Carter replied before looking around for something. "I mean, even if it wasn't theoretical, the idea of a black hole popping up out of nowhere and then collapsing inside a planet's atmosphere-"

"Let me guess: astronomically unlikely?" he asked, given that that's what his own knowledge of astronomy was telling him.

"Definitely. I'm going to grab my own radiation gear and take a look for myself." she said finally, spotting where she could get said gear. "There's got to be a more realistic explanation for what happened here and I'm going to find it!"

He was about to make a comment about she should've been assigned to the laboratory division of the program but then realized if that had happened, then Carter likely would've been assigned to the Groom Lake facility.

Yeah. Better that she stayed with the SGC.

"General O'Neill. We have the official casualty list along with all the alien technology lost," said another lower-ranked member of the investigation team.

"Thanks," he said automatically as he took the set of five pieces of paper from the young man and looked at it.

It didn't take him long to see how long the casualty list was, took up two and a half pages to be precise, with only a short section below it showing who was off base at the time of the incident. A little over a hundred and fifty people who wouldn't be seen ever again and the same number of families that the United States military would have to send 'we regret to inform you' letters to. Worst of all, he was sure that the cause of death would be covered up more than usual, if only to keep word from getting out about how bad things were.

He might've been trying to act like his usual self but the truth of the matter was that, the second he'd seen the crater for the first time, he'd known without a doubt that something new was starting.

Something bad.

It felt similar to how he'd felt when it'd finally set in that Ra hadn't been the only one of his kind and that in fact there were dozens more, all with their eyes turning towards Earth.

_One way or another we need to start getting ready now,_ he thought as he continued to read through the information he'd been handed. '_Cause I got a bad feeling a storm is coming._

_**Farrow-Marshall Aeronautics R&amp;D Facility, Supposedly Abandoned**_

_**Northern Tip of the Rocky Mountains, British Columbia, Canada**_

_**Athena's POV**_

_Well, I'd say everything turned out swimmingly,_ she thought as she watched her newest acquisitions being rolled to the labs for study. _My unwilling agents proved that they could successfully infiltrate the second most important facility on American soil, steal from it and escape without a single scratch on their targets and only minor scrapes on themselves. Time to raise the bar again, I guess._

Indeed, so far she'd been giving them assignments where there was little to really push them to their limits in any area other than covert action and assassination. She needed to give them a mission that was closer to an actual battlefield, where they'd be pushed to their limits in all areas, so that she could see for real just what was or wasn't possible for someone with their enhancements. Unfortunately that meant sending them up against either a large number of opponents where quantity would make up for the lack of quality or against a force armed with weapons designed to work against armored vehicles. Either option would put them in a situation that would allow her to make a proper evaluation of their true potential as well as the potential of her future army.

She'd have to think on it for a bit.

_First, though, I think it's long past time I met them face to face. Should be interesting, _she thought with a malicious smile on her face.

Heading towards the armory where the team of six would be putting away their equipment, she was politely intrigued to see Doctor Drago approaching. For a moment she wondered why since she had not sent for him but then she recalled that he was tasked with keeping her up to date one three of her more important projects. If he was there then that meant there'd been a significant development in one of them and for that she could permit him to approach her without a summons.

"Something interesting happen, Doctor Drago?" she asked once he was close enough that she didn't have to yell.

"Indeed, Mistress. I have just been notified of three developments regarding projects Fallen Column, Titans and Horsemen," Doctor Drago replied, taking up a respectful and subservient posture.

"Oh?" she asked, pleased that all three had made significant advancements.

"Work crews on Fallen Column have just finished completing the outer and inner framework without incident. With that finished they will begin on the installation of the primary systems, starting from the rear and working their way to the front." Drago replied, surprisingly having committed the reports to memory. "All adjustments required in order to fully incorporate the diverse technologies gleaned from the subjects have been made. However we will have to wait until a new slip space engine has been completed before some things can be integrated."

"The delay will be minimal. I've been told that now that the engineers who constructed the first one fully understand its components and functions, building another will be done in no time."

"That shall please the crew of Project Fallen Column greatly," Drago said with a nod before continuing. "Moving on, those assigned to Project Titans in our Alaskan facility report that the first prototypes of both their land and amphibious models have been completed. They will begin testing in the field within the week and, once the pilots have finished mastering the simulations on moderate difficulty setting, combat trials will begin after that."

"I trust all security precautions will be in place to keep them from prying eyes?" she asked with a stern look on her face. "That the pilots will remain in the designated testing areas and not do ANYTHING that might draw attention?"

"All possible precautions have been taken, Mistress. All occupants of the facility have been bluntly told that endangering the secrecy of the project will result in extreme punishments," Drago replied with enough resolve that she could take his words as truth, "On the matter of Project Horsemen, the head scientist reports that they have finally determined the ideal combination of technologies to maximize their combat potential. Implantation and augmentation of the primary candidates approved by you will begin within twenty-four hours. Presuming there are no complications, they should be ready to begin training two weeks later."

"Two weeks?" she asked, not entirely pleased with that estimate.

"Y-yes. Even with the advancements we've made they will still require a certain amount of recovery time from the various procedures. The various medical treatments we've gained can't accelerate it any more than this." Drago replied with a flicker of fear in his eyes.

As much as she didn't like this last bit of news she'd been given, Drago knew the penalties of providing her with inaccurate information. If he said that two weeks was the soonest that her Horsemen could begin formal training with their enhancements, then she would have no choice but to wait.

However…

"Very well, but inform the scientists at Project Horsemen that I expect them to do all they can to further refine the recovery process," she said with a stone cold voice. "Their goal will be to reduce it to ONE week. Tell them I will be most disappointed in them if they should fail to attain this goal within a reasonable amount of time."

"O-of course, mistress. I'll make sure to impress that upon the project head," Drago said with a bow of subservience before walking away.

Resuming her walk to the armory with Wesker and Smith behind her, she had to personally admit that she was pleased with the progress of her various projects. By her estimate they were running just a little ahead of schedule and that was good for the most part, however it also meant she would have to toss her unwilling warriors a 'filler mission' in order to give her Horsemen the time they needed.

Now what would make an appetizing target and a worthy warm up to their true mission?

She already had enough corporations under her thumb to ensure the safe creation of her new army and the destruction of Area Fifty-One was a potent blow against her enemies in the SGC. What else was there?

The answer came to her in an instant.

There was one other potential target tied to the SGC that would hurt them greatly and at the same time be a sort of black favor to her enemies. According to her sources there was an organization referred to as the IOA that was in charge of overseeing the SGC and its affiliated operations, an international civilian organization rather than a military or government one. She'd only gotten a hold of a handful of names but it hadn't taken her long to see that the members were arrogant, selfish and close-minded fools that only hindered her enemies. Normally one would think that the right thing to do would be to support these incompetents and add fuel to the fire in order to further hinder the SGC but she had a better idea.

Have her team of angry assassins eliminate five of its top members as well as anyone within eyesight of the primary kill.

All at the same time worldwide!

Such an act would stir up such a commotion worldwide that it would put considerable pressure on O'Neill's Homeworld Security and the SGC to find those responsible, especially if she permitted this time for abnormal signs to be left behind. Nothing too useful but enough to ensure that her enemies made a connection between the destruction of Area Fifty-One and the assassinations thus making the uproar even bigger. Their second most secure facility destroyed with everything inside it and then the top five people of the organization responsible for their funding dead… 'shit storm' described what would follow nicely. In a way it'd be a nice prelude to the big finale of the first act of her grand plan that might even allow her to push for Projects Titan and Fallen Pillar to be accelerated. The primary reason why it had been progressing at its current rate of speed was that she didn't want to attract too much attention with the movement of such large amounts of materials. Therefore she'd kept the shipments small in order to blend in with others performed by conventional companies. However, if her plan succeeded in distracting her foes enough, she could risk increasing the shipment size, thus accelerating both projects towards completion.

_Yes. This will do nicely,_ she thought with a smile as the armory door came into sight.

Pushing open the door a few moments later she quickly spotted all five of the ones she sought following the proper procedure for putting their weapons away after a mission. Like she'd expected, all of them turned towards the door when it opened and the looks of outage they sent her way… it only made her smile even wider than she already had been.

"Well done! All of you," she said, putting on the act of a proud employer. "The mission was a complete success. All targets were acquired and all… complications… dealt with."

"COMPLICATIONS!?" Miss Lightning Bolt roared while being held back by the faux Master Chief. "YOU WIPED OUT THE ENTIRE BASE!"

"I think what Buffy means to say is that it wasn't necessary," Prophet said in subzero tone of voice. "Every person who saw us was killed. There was no need to destroy the entire facility."

"On the contrary, there was every reason to destroy the base," she said, completely ignoring their emotions. "While no one might have seen any of you and lived there were still clues left behind that could make any future missions… complicated. Besides which, my scientists had just finished testing the slip space drive so the timing seemed right."

"The TIMING seemed RIGHT!?" Miss Lightning Bolt raged, struggling against her restrainer. "You killed over a hundred people!"

"You're hands are hardly clean now, either, Miss Lightning Bolt," she said with a condescending look. "How many people have tasted your blade since your 'upgrade'? You may like to think that you had no choice but you did: you could've committed suicide. My little 'collars' are only incentives; they can't control your actions, so all you had to do to break free was cut your own head off. I'd say this pretty much proves that you value your own life over the lives of strangers quite nicely."

The young woman roared as she finally threw off the Master Chief into a wall and charged.

She wasn't worried.

The swordswoman didn't get more than halfway to her before the ace up her sleeve took action.

A well timed roundhouse kick to the stomach caught the enraged cyborg in the chest, sending her flying into the far wall but that was only the opening move. Before the fool could even look up, her agent unleashed a barrage of moves from various Eastern Martial Arts before slamming the little girl head first into the ground. To top it all off, both arms were then grabbed and a foot placed so that, even with the significant strength available to Miss Lightning Bolt, it would do little good.

In the end it was the identity of the defender though that would immobilize everyone the best.

Dawn Summers.

"You didn't really think I would appear before you without an ace up my sleeve, did you?" she asked, letting all her confidence show. "Prior to Mister Rayne's spell I had my people slip three things beneath the young woman's costume. Those three things were a piece of paper, a CD and a USB stick all with the same contents transcribed onto them. Directives, if you will, to replace the Skynet programming that is usually there by default.

"Directive One: this unit will protect subject prime Athena from any and all harm, even at the risk of permanent loss of functionality. Directive Two: All orders issued by subject prime Athena are to be followed without hesitation. Directive Three: Unit is not permitted to speak outside of assigned missions and during missions conversations must be of mission relevant topics. You see, I knew it would only be a matter of time before one of you lost control and tried to harm me, so I made sure to have some extra protection. Now if you want you could still try to hurt me but then you'd have to reduce the youngest member of your group to so much scrap in order to do so. Personally I just don't see any of you having the spine to do it."

It felt so GOOD seeing their looks of impotent anger being directed her way, knowing they couldn't do a thing about it without hurting one of their own.

"In any case, as a SMALL reward for your hard work, I've had my people convert one of the rooms into a small entertainment center. Naturally there are no connections to the outside world available and you will be monitored at all times, but at least you'll be able to have SOME fun until your next mission," she said as she turned halfway towards the door. "I already have the necessary targets in mind and need only gather the necessary intel before it can begin. I suggest you enjoy your free time while you can."

She took four planned steps towards the door before stopping and looking at Subject Cameron right in the eye.

"Subject Cameron: release Subject Miss Lightning Bolt. Maintain alert level three until I am well out of viable attack range for Subject Miss Lightning Bolt."

"Acknowledged," Dawn Summers said with a voice completely devoid of emotion.

With that she left the room and for a moment wondered if any of them would dare to chance attacking her.

After five minutes of nothing, though, she knew her plan to turn one of their own against them had worked flawlessly. She knew it'd been a bit dangerous to put the idea of all of them committing suicide to escape her out in the open but she stood by her statement that she didn't believe any of them would go that far.

They wouldn't because they still held onto the hope that they'd one day be free.

That hope would betray them.


	4. Off With Their Heads!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the copyrighted material contained herein. They are the rightful property of their respective creators and corresponding companies. I make no profit from this whatsoever and I have no intention of changing this at any point in the future. I write fanfics because its fun and because there are those who enjoy reading my works. I hope making this clear will keep any legal nukes from being dropped on my head.

Note: I know you guys don't like how long I'm taking with some elements of the story but what I am trying to do is epitomize 'you cannot go home again'. I wanted to affect such profound change on the Scoobies that the odds of returning to their old lives anytime soon were slim and none. Many fanfics have the Scoobies altered but still remain doing the same old thing after a brief adventure with whatever show/movie/game/etc BtVS is crossed with.

For me I don't want them to return 'home' for at least a couple of years if not decades.

_**One Week Later, Buffy's POV**_

_**It's gonna feel SO good cutting them all into fish bait once we're free!**_

_Shut up,_ she thought as she proceeded back to the unofficial Scooby room from her latest session with the dialysis machine.

_**Why do you fight what you know to be true? This is nothing new to you. You've always felt a sense of pleasure dusting vamps and slaying demons.**_

_This is different!_ she thought angrily as she tried to block out the voice that felt familiar but shouldn't. _Those were demons. Monsters! They weren't… human._

_**Stop quibbling over details! A target is a target, doesn't matter if it's human or demon, both have flesh that can be parted by our blade with equal ease!**_

_IT'S AN IMPORTANT DETAIL!_ she thought loudly in the hopes of cowing the voice that had been tormenting her for weeks. _I SAVE HUMAN LIVES! I DON'T TAKE THEM!_

_**I think Carrie Marchant's bodyguard and driver would think differently. Oh, that's right! They can't think because you sliced them into bloody chunks! In fact you've sliced quite a few HUMANS into even portions haven't you.**_

_I didn't have a choice! _she thought in her own defense. _They would've hurt the others if I didn't follow orders!_

_**Bullshit! That blonde bitch hit the truth right on the head a week ago: you could've killed yourself anytime you wanted but you value your own life more than that of a stranger's life.**_

_SHUT UP!_ she thought with a roar as her rage approached the boiling point. _JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP!_

The voice in her mind simply laughed at her.

For minutes she waited for the voice that was familiar but should not be, the voice of Jackie, to come back at her and say something more, to piss her off even more, but when nothing happened she breathed a sigh of relief. She knew that the others had ghosts, for want of a better word, of their costume's personality floating around their heads but she doubted that they actually talked to their personality like she did to hers. For them… for them it was probably more of a case of mistaking certain memories for their own or slipping into mannerisms not their own without realizing it. For her, though, whispers started to pop up after her third assassination mission and had only gotten louder and more bloodthirsty. She'd done the best she could to block the voice out and focus on other things but, ever since the attack on Area Fifty-One, blocking it out became almost impossible to do. The blasted thing made a game of provoking her and messing with her head to the point where she was pushed to the edge of violence, and it receded. The others probably excused her short temper and fits of anger as solely being caused by the Queen Bitch Mayfield as well as her underlings.

The truth of it was that their task mistress was only part of the cause of her temper flaring up for all to see.

Worst of all, she didn't know what to do about the bloody voice or if there was anything really that could be done. If it was just psychological then she needed therapy and lots of it, but she doubted she'd get some of that before they managed to throw off the Business Bitch's collars. However, if it turned out to be a kind of magical leftover of some kind, then she'd have to bear with it until they got back to a branch of the Council. Even if Giles and Willow had the mojo to do something about the echo in her head, she knew there'd be research that'd need to be done before they could try anything.

Bottom line: she had no choice but to endure for as long as she could without losing control.

Not an easy thing to do when they kept on getting sent on missions that only seemed to feed her inner Jackie and make her stronger. With every life that she took or drop of blood that she spilled, the beast roared louder and too long to drive away.

_Whatever! I've always been too stubborn for my own good._ _I'll manage. Somehow._

Upon entering the room her eyes fell upon the expected sight of all her friends doing what they usually did when they weren't undergoing 'maintenance' or doing wet work for the bitch… except one.

"Where's Xander?" she asked, not seeing the nanosuited man.

Usually her friend spent his time helping the others work through their issues or 'meditated with his suit's artificial intellgience', but this time he was nowhere in the room.

"Um… he's… not here." Willow replied, looking a little uncertain.

"I can see that. Where is he?" she asked, narrowing her eyes a smidgen.

"You might as well tell her, Willow." Giles said from his specially reinforced chair. "She's going to find out sooner or later."

"I guess," Willow said with a sigh of dread. "He's gone off to that entertainment room Mayfield made up for us."

"WHAT!?" she exclaimed, unable to believe that her friend gave in that BITCH's bribery.

"According to Xander he'd reached an impasse with his meditating and figured watching a couple of movies might give him some inspiration." Giles explained, sounding a little disappointed but nothing more.

"He couldn't get inspiration from one of us?!" she asked, not accepting such a flimsy excuse.

"Experience with artificial intelligence limited to the mentality of a five year old," Willow replied, pointing to herself. "From what you told us Raiden didn't have any experience with . Dawn won't talk thanks to that directive Athena put into her and, while Cortana is an A.I., she says that the nanosuit's artificial intelligence S.E.C.O.N.D. isn't even at the level of a dumb A.I whereas she is classified as a smart A.I."

"There's a difference?" she asked, not quite getting it.

"Dumb A.I.s can't learn anything outside of whatever job they were designed for." Cortana replied through the Mjolnir armor's external speakers. "It'd be like your brain refusing to retain anything not associated with fighting. Smart A.I.s like myself are under no such restrictions and can absorb information from a wide variety of sources as well as topics. From what I can tell, S.E.C.O.N.D. isn't sentient by any stretch of the imagination and is basically just a means to both regulate the nanosuit's functions and manage information."

When put that way she guessed that none of them could help Xander get through with his A.I. but that brought up the question of why her friend was working with the program in the first place. She knew they all had theories about the why of it all, that like the rest of them he was trying to figure out a way to free them all, but without knowing more none of them could really help. Since they couldn't talk out loud or communicate with writing, there was no way to pool their efforts, thereby maximizing their chances. With all the spy gear that was set up all over the place, they'd be found out the instant they tried rendering their efforts useless.

_Doesn't help that the best I was able to come up with turned to crap when the bitch revealed the control she had over Dawn, _she thought angrily as she moved over to the cot at the far end of the room. _Guess the only thing I can do is be ready to do whatever they tell me when they put their own plans into effect._

Lying down on the cot, she cursed for the umpteenth time the fact that her sense of touch had been so drastically reduced thanks to Ethan's blasted spell. She used to love the feel of bed sheets when she slipped into bed and basked in the warmth they surrounded her in after just a dozen or so minutes. Now, though… now all she felt was the basic tactile sensation of something touching her or being wrapped around her. There was no comforting temperature to be felt or pleasing texture to the sheets as they rubbed against skin. When added to the fact that she could no longer eat or drink, her current existence was almost suffocating.

Closing her eyes, she prayed that her dreams would be of happier times when all was right with her life.

Somehow, though, she knew that her prayer wouldn't be heard.

No one in the halo and wings crowd had ever answered them before, so why should now be any different?

_**Ten Days Later, In Transit by Car, Willow's POV**_

_When will it end?_ _When will our lives be our own again?_

It was a question she'd been asking herself ever since the group briefing ten hours ago and she had yet to come up with a satisfactory answer.

When Mayfield had called them all to the briefing room together, they'd thought that they were in for another facility raid of some kind. It made sense since in all other sort of missions they'd just paired up two to a mission and Giles had never been in the field for any other kind of mission. The truth turned out to be far worse than ever before and this time no one would be spared the blood that would soon flow.

As the demon in human form explained to them, they would each be assigned a target for assassination, Giles included, and apparently the woman wanted to happen at precisely the same time globally. All of the targets were apparently part of an oversight committee attached to an operation affiliated with Area Fifty-One and Mayfield wanted them dead. Whether the target was alone or surrounded by bystanders, nothing less than their certain death would be considered a victory and, as always, any witnesses were to be silenced as well. She'd been the one to inquire on what should be done if the number of witnesses exceed what could effectively be killed, given that everyone'd likely scatter after the first body dropped dead.

All Mayfield had said was that it would be up to them to choose their weapons accordingly.

Using Motoko's experience she selected two weapons that she felt would best suit a situation wherein she would have a lot of people to kill, along with the primary target. She would be striking the target while he was at home and, when she'd asked how many witnesses there'd be, all she was told was that the man was having a 'small get together with some friends'. While she wanted to take things at face value, she had a sneaking suspicion that 'small get together' was going to be the mother of all understatements so she made sure that was reflected in her weapon choices.

Seeing dirt road that she'd found when examining the maps and topography of the area surrounding the kill zone, she turned onto it and followed it for a good fifteen minutes before pulling off to the side. Getting out she went to the rear doors of the van she'd requisitioned for the job and opened them up to reveal two large rectangular metal cases with heavy duty handles on each. Most people looking at them might think that they'd require either a real muscle-bound guy or two average guys to get off the ground but for her they weren't any heavier than your average suitcases. Lifting them out of the van, she began her trek to the top of the hill she'd chosen as her shooter's nest since it provided her with a clear line of sight to the target's home as well as the widest view of the property. It didn't take long but, once she reached her destination, she could tell with a look that the number of extras had indeed been understated. There was a full blown party and her only saving grace was that it looked to be an outdoors party, meaning that there'd likely only be a handful of people indoors to worry about.

_Guess it's a good thing I brought the right tools for the job, _she thought as she opened the first container, which held a Seburo bolt action .50 BMG sniper rifle.

While she could've chosen to get in close to get the job done, there was always the chance that the primary target could get away from her. Better to surgically eliminate the primary first and then deal with the rest then to risk the most important prey getting clean away. Mayfield would not be happy if that happened and failure could have seriously painful consequences not just for her but for all five of them.

Piece by piece she assembled the sniper rifle and, once ready, she got down onto her stomach before reaching over for the bullets. One by one she slid them into the firearm until the weapon was at capacity before looking through the scope to find her target. She presumed that most snipers were good enough with just one bullet but neither she nor Motoko were very experienced with sniper rifles, not like Saito of Section Nine. She had to accept that there was a chance her first shot might miss and have others on standby to do what the first failed to do.

Normally a sniper would have a spotter or someone to give them a rough idea where their target was but she was on her own, so she just continued to check each face to enter her crosshairs. She ignored the women entirely since her target was male and only stopped to consider those men without a lick of hair on their heads. It took her almost ten minutes of searching but eventually Fate gave her a helping hand. What once was the back of a person's head soon became the right side of the man's face and instantly she matched it to the photographs she had taped to the dashboard of her van.

Doctor Carl Strom, the Committee Head of the International Oversight Advisory.

She hadn't gotten more information than that but, considering the nature of their previous target, it was safe to say that whatever operation Strom served as oversight for it was probably classified to even the highest ranked of people. Why Mayfield wanted the man dead, she didn't know but she was sure there was some nefarious purpose behind it. Their first few missions had been to eliminate or blackmail rival businesses and the attack on Area Fifty-One was likely to both acquire specific tech as well as eliminate America's primary alien tech research facility. For this five person assassination event, she could only presume she wanted to completely decapitate the advisory committee of a specific project or program. The point of making it all happen at the same time worldwide was to intimidate the opposition.

_Better get started,_ she thought as she activated the HUD function of her scope.

Immediately information came up on the left side of the scope, such as a countdown and the basic layout of the target's property with red dots signifying people. She could only imagine there had to be a satellite overhead taking everything in and beaming the relevant data to the dish on top of the van, then to her scope for her to see. There was also a circle that had a single line going through it that seemed to randomly go from left to right to left but she knew it was meant to show her which way the wind was blowing at the moment. Once she was satisfied that all the necessary information was being reliably displayed, she focused her attention back on the scope to make sure she didn't lose her target.

He appeared to be mingling with his guests, moving every few minutes, so she made sure that she was aiming just a little off center in the direction the target was moving. When Strom finally stopped moving, she moved the center of the crosshairs to the center of the man's head to minimize the chances of a miss.

_Five minutes and twenty-two seconds until show time._ She glanced at the countdown timer. _I hope the others aren't having any trouble getting into position._

She was pretty sure they weren't but no one could foresee everything.

Where they were now, both in bodies as well as in 'occupation', proved that beyond a reasonable doubt.

All they could do was endure.

_**Defence Intelligence and Security Centre, Chicksands, Bedfordshire, UK**_

_**Dawn/Cameron's POV**_

_Infiltration accomplished, _she thought as she made it past the metal detectors.

Personality profile 'Luna Moneypenny' was online and operating well within acceptable parameters. Data was successfully uploaded to her mainframe point three four hours prior to departure from Facility Prime and appropriate implements to maximize successful completion of mission objectives. Once she had boarded the transport that would take her most of the distance to her target, she began to run simulations on the structure she would be entering in order to terminate Russel Chapman. All data provided on the interior was taken into account from the activities of its occupants to the placement of furniture and the security devices. Using the false credentials that she had been provided with, possible avenues of approach were constructed by her systems to gain entry to the target's office. All of that data was cross referenced with the files detailing the latest version of their security procedures in order to predict the actions of the tertiary targets to facilitate termination.

By the time the transport had landed she had ascertained which series of actions held the highest probability of accomplishing her primary objective and her tertiary objective. At every possible point of divergence secondary plans were in place in order to optimize adaptability to unforeseen encounters or obstructions. Already preliminary preparations had been completed and, with successful entry into the building itself, she could initialize the alpha scenario.

Maintaining the outward appearance of a data analyst transferring in from another branch, she promptly went through the accepted behaviors for a new arrival; meeting with a representative from the personnel department, performing preliminary socialization with employees of equal or lesser rank and eventually being assigned tasks. After evaluating the tasks, she ascertained that none of them would get her to the second level where the target's office was located. Consulting her inner chronometer, she ascertained that she could complete the first two tasks and still terminate the target at the designated time.

This possibility had been taken into account with her mission data so performing the first two tasks she'd been given had been completed within an acceptable span of time. However, when her internal countdown chronometer reached five minutes, she could delay no further and so initiated a secondary plan conceived to deal with the possibility that she would not be sent to the right floor. Going over to where they had heated beverages available for consumption, she poured herself a cup before mixing in the common additions of sugar and cream. It was while she was mixing these additions with a plastic spoon that she kept a close watch on the movement of the centre's occupants, measuring the likelihood that they were going to ascend the stairs to the second level. She had files on each employee detailing their qualifications and their duties in order to further facilitate determining who would be going upstairs within the next five minutes.

Without warning one employee, a woman, reached a probability percentage of near ninety-six percent for going upstairs and, when she used her ocular sensors to enlarge as well as enhance the documents the woman was holding, it became one hundred percent. The documents were either addressed specifically to her target or dealt with subject matters that required Russel Chapman's evaluation.

With the key factor in her most valid secondary scenario, she began to walk across the room while pretending to be so preoccupied with something that she wasn't paying attention to where she was walking. The truth was that she was precisely controlling her movements so that she would intercept the woman at the foot of the stairs. It took less than a minute for her to reach the well-dressed employee and she 'bumped into' the woman, 'accidentally' spilling some of her tea in the process.

"Bloody hell!" the woman exclaimed in surprise and annoyance. "Watch where you're going, you fluff brain. Look what you did!"

She knew what she did; she purposefully aimed the splash so that it would hit the blazer sleeve while missing the documents entirely.

"Oh, blimey! I am SO sorry!" she said, putting the cup down on a nearby desk before taking out a handkerchief to try and soak up the spilt tea on the blazer. "This is just so different from my last job… I guess I just started thinking too much."

"Yes, well, you'd do well to start thinking less and being more observant of your surroundings," the woman said sounding more understanding before looking at the tea on her sleeve. "Now I need to go clean this up quick."

This was the opening she'd wanted to create.

"Let me make it up to you!" she entreated pleadingly with perfectly performed earnest emotion. "You were going to deliver those upstairs, right? Let me take them there for you so you can clean up properly."

"Well… strictly speaking I'm not supposed to… but… oh hell!" the woman said before handing over the documents. "Just get up there and deliver them right quick, alright? If anyone asks, just tell'em to speak to me about it."

"You got it," she said with simulated enthusiasm. "I'll be as fast as the wind!"

She began her ascent to the second level at what would be considered a hurrying speed for a human. Once there she consulted her internal countdown chronometer and saw that she had just a little over a minute before she had to terminate her target. Upon reaching the top step, she immediately made her way to the office of her target going through her available options for termination. She hadn't been able to bring a weapon in with her due to the security measures of the centre, so that meant she would have to use her own body to induce fatal trauma or use something in the environment.

Either way, termination would be achieved.

She stood outside of Russel Chapman's office door and then, as politeness dictated, she knocked to allow those inside to know she was there.

"Enter!" came a man's voice, only slightly muffled by the door.

Turning the doorknob, she pushed the door open to find two men in the room but it only took a moment for her facial recognition software to confirm a ninety-nine percent match with Russel Chapman. She did not bother to do a scan of the other person in the room but rather confirmed that there were mere seconds before her target was to be terminated. Walking forward, she glanced about the room to look for a suitably lethal implement but found the ideal one decorating the target's desk.

"I have something important to deliver to you, Mister Chapman," she said as she let her false personae go offline.

"Well then give it to me, young lady." Chapman said holding out his hand expectantly.

"Very well," she said as she reached for the decorative short sword's hilt as her countdown reached five seconds.

_**Parking Garage, Next to the French Diplomatic Offices, Paris, France**_

_**Xander's POV**_

_Just breath, Xander,_ he thought as he kept his eyes on a single vehicle. _This'll be over in the blink of an eye. You've read the intel and you know LaPierre's routine. Just wait until he arrives._

Indeed he'd already picked the perfect time to hit the man that would keep unnecessary bloodshed to a minimum and ensure the death of his target. According to the intel, the man would be coming out of the diplomatic offices any minute now and would then get into his car before driving home. In anticipation of this he'd planted two large blocks of Semtex underneath the man's car, one right under the driver's seat while the other was wedged next to the gas tank. Both were set up to detonate at the press of a button, ensuring that the French rep for the International Observation Advisory would get hit from two sources of force. Between them and the fire from the detonated gas tank, something he took the precaution of filling to the brim, there was no reason it shouldn't have done the job.

As he kept an eye on the clock of his car, knowing precisely when he'd have to press the button in order to make everything 'mission accomplished'. He still had some time left, though, so he chose to turn his mind towards his own plan to get the captured Scoobies off their leashes. His plan was a simple one but, in his mind, it also held the best chance of success. For weeks now he'd been trying to communicate with the non-sentient artificial intelligence of his nanosuit in order to get it to do what he wanted it to do. He thought that just maybe he could get it to disable the implant that caused him so much pain at the press of a button either by destroying it or merely blocking the activation signal. To him it was feasible so he'd devoted all his free time to it looking for any way to convince the A.I to do what he wanted, but it was like convincing a mountain to fall.

You could talk for weeks and, while it might seem like it'd had an effect, after a couple of years you could never be quite sure if it was your words that had an affect or merely the passage of time.

Still, the last time he'd checked, S.E.C.O.N.D had said something about initiating vector analysis but damned if he knew what that meant. Neither he nor Major Laurence Barnes were science majors so he didn't have a clue and just barely understood that it was trying SOMETHING but nothing more than that. All he could do was wait for it to say 'vector analysis complete' and hope that the outcome was something he liked. He couldn't talk it over with Willow, not out loud, and the only safe route he could think of was something he wasn't sure they'd be able to do. In the 'Ghost in the Shell' anime, anytime they wanted to have a private conversation they just connected via their cybernetic implants but he didn't have the necessary interface ports. Sure, they could talk via their comm systems but that could be eavesdropped on and all it'd take was one word to Mayfield to bring the hammer down on them all. Unless some significant modifications were done to the nanosuit, he wouldn't be able to privately connect with his best bud to get her scientific opinion of his efforts.

_I just hope that the others have better escape plans than me,_ he thought as the sound of the parking garage's staircase door opening. _We need to get out of this mess before we get dragged any deeper into the darkness._

Turning his head, he expected to see Jean LaPierre walking towards his car and so he did, but the man wasn't alone. A woman was with him and in that woman's arms was a little girl that couldn't have been more than a couple of years old, with both of the unanticipated tag alongs sticking pretty close to LaPierre. Were they related? Worse than that, were they the man's wife and child?! For three solid seconds he contemplated aborting the mission and, to hell with the consequences, but then images of his friends in pain filled his mind. Images that evolved into one or more of them being horrifically executed and dissected like frogs on the science class slab… and he was left with no choice but to kill the part of him that felt for the family in front of him.

He had no other choice; either people he loved like family died or three people he never knew existed a week ago died in their stead.

As a man who was ruled by his heart there was only one choice.

The mission would go ahead as planned.

_God? I know we've never really seen eye to eye on a lot of things and I've probably pissed you off many times but… please forgive me for what I'm about to do. Forgive me and, when they get to heaven, tell them I beg them for forgiveness as well._

He wanted to believe the old tale that God was capable of forgiving anyone who genuinely asked for it but to him there were just some things that could never be forgiven no matter how remorseful someone was for the act they committed.

Did this qualify?

He honestly wished that he knew because it'd sure as hell set his mind at ease one way or another.

_**The Rooftop Across from the Chinese Embassy in Washington D.C**_

_**Buffy's POV**_

_Only one way to do this,_ she thought as her twin solid eyes devices allowed her to watch every car and every person that left the embassy, identifying them with only a second of looking. _Quick and fast. Get ahead of her and, the second I have a straight line, just sprint forward, swinging as fast as I can until I'm past her._

It wasn't that she was cowardly, not entirely, but rather that she was confident that her high frequency blade would slice through everything in her path including the target then she could just leap away once the job was done. Given the speeds she was capable of, she could run your average city block in the blink of an eye, making it unlikely that anyone would see anything more than a blur. The odds of someone having any kind of camera capable of capturing such a fast moving object with sufficient clarity to get Mayfield's panties in a twist were ridiculous, even for a politics-infested place like Washington D.C.

It'd be over so quick that she probably wouldn't even see the face of the woman she was supposed to kill more than once and that'd just to confirm that she was in the vehicle.

At such speeds, no one else would see her so no one else would need to die.

_There,_ she thought as her solid eyes pegged Shen Xiaoyi's car leaving the embassy with one escort car in front and one to the rear. _Time for a little follow the leader._

Using the speed her cybernetic body along with bursts of strength, she was able to keep up with the vehicles with ease no matter the gap between the buildings. She'd already picked out a stretch of street that would suit her needs and it existed along the target's usual route home, so all she needed to do was follow for the time being. It'd be about eight minutes of driving before they reached that point so, while half of her mind was on moving her body in the right direction, the other half went towards thinking about the darkness that surrounded both her and her friends.

It was a darkness she could only think of one way to disperse.

It was a way that would require her to sacrifice her little sister to make work.

Therefore it was a way removed from consideration before she could even voice it.

She knew that the others were likely working on plans of their own to help them regain their freedom and she knew that if she relied on them, they'd figure out at least one plan that'd work. All she could do was fight her inner demons, keep her cool and, when the time came, do whatever task they needed her to do so that they could all be free. To that end she'd been asking Giles about meditation techniques and ways she could increase her emotional control, using the reason that she didn't want to risk losing it and hurting Dawn. That was the main reason but another was to keep Jackie under control so that she didn't flip out and start laughing like a psycho from a slasher film.

That was the direction she was heading in if she didn't get things under control; covered in blood, high frequency blade in hand, manic smile on her face and the kind of chuckling that'd inspire fear in just about anyone with or without a pulse.

_Not going to happen!_ _Not now. NOT EVER!_

_**Never say never, little girl!**_ Jackie said from the back of her mind.

_Shut… the FUCK… UP!_ she thought as she continued hopping rooftops.

_**Now, now! What would your mother think of you using such foul language?**_ Jackie asked with a reproving tone of voice that soon turned malicious. _**Bet the bitch would be SO proud of how her little girl turned out! Especially now that you finally have reason to keep your legs closed. Can't exactly get any if you don't have a hole to fill there, eh?**_

_Do NOT speak about my MOTHER LIKE THAT!_ she screamed angrily, almost missing a jump ahead of her. _She loved me! She'd want me to be happy. She'd want me to find a guy._

_**Yeah. She wanted you to find A GUY, singular, not to jump from broody to soldiery to badass to immortal, **_Jackie sneered inside her mind. _**There's a word for that ya know. Now what was it again? Slut? Whore? Nope, that isn't it. Ah, yes! COWARD! That's what you are! You're so afraid of going all in with a guy you always choose the ones where it's just not going to work no matter how hard you try!**_

_No one knows if they'd found Mister Right the second they set eyes on him,_ she thought, defending her dating history as best she could. _They all looked fine starting out. Things just got… complicated before the end._

_**You mean your lies eventually stopped working on yourself,**_ Jackie thought back, not buying one word. _**I mean a blind person could tell that dating a walking corpse wouldn't work out. Soldiers are macho men to begin with, so being shown up by someone half their size poisoned everything. As for an immortal, well, it's obvious you were just a fun toy that he eventually got bored with. After all, you're pretty much a child compared to him, so where's the soul mate in someone like that?!**_

Deciding that arguing with the voice in her head was pointless, she opted to go the 'ignore the bitch and maybe she'll go away' route for as long as was necessary. Besides, she had to focus on the task at hand in order to make sure there weren't any screw ups and getting all pissed at the ghost in her brain wouldn't help. Mentally building the thickest walls she could manage around the spot in her mind where Jackie resided, she looked down to the street to make sure she hadn't lost her target. With a half nod of satisfaction she saw that the Chinese representative and her escorts were still following her usual route home.

Looking at the clock displayed in the upper right corner of her Solid Eye piece, she could see that everything was coming together. By her estimate, when the clock hit the time she was supposed to eliminate her target, the convoy of cars would be right in the stretch of road she wanted her to be on. With her concealing leather duster flapping in the wind as she went along at speeds above what humans were capable of, she followed as closely as she dared.

Three minutes later Shen Xiaoyi's group turned onto the stretch of road that was the designated kill zone and so she doubled her speed to get to the other end of the block in seconds. Once there she dropped four stories to the ground, landing in a crouch, cracking the concrete beneath her feet. Standing up, she trotted with measured steps out of the alley and into the street her target was now driving down, completely unaware of what was about to happen to her.

Once she was in the middle of the road she simply waited for the car convoy to come to a complete stop since, in her opinion, that would be the best time in which to strike at her target. She would need to make one final visual confirmation of the target's presence in the middle car before getting the job over with in order to make sure there were no mistakes. Besides which, it took time for a car to accelerate so, the more speed that bled off from the vehicle, the less likely they'd peel away to get out of the kill zone. Not that any car would be faster than her but she wanted this to be as quick and as clean as possible so complications were completely unwelcome.

Like the fuckin' codename she'd been stuck with, she'd be there and gone in the blink of an eye.

_**Russia, Transnistria**_

_**Military Base, Giles' POV**_

"This isn't going to be easy," Cortana said through the speakers inside his helmet. "Fifteen hundred soldiers on base, not including the target, eighteen tanks, one hundred and seven armored carriers, forty six anti-aircraft installations, one hundred and seventy three tank destroyer units, nine Mi-8T helicopters, six Mi-24 helicopters, two Mi-2 helicopters, and several airplanes of An-2, An-26 and Yak-18 models. While most of their aircraft are on the ground, there are still some in the air on patrol that could be called back pretty quick. Even with the technological edge we've got, just standing there and taking whatever they could dish out wouldn't be smart."

"Then it's a good thing I won't be just taking it," he said as he looked at the military base wrapped in the hiding abilities of his active camo device. "Got a location on our target?"

"Yep, and you're not going to like it," she replied, bringing up an image of the base's basic layout, complete with a waypoint inside of a building's outline. "He's in the main hangar addressing the troops. It's not quite a full house but there'll still be a lot of bodies between us and Chekov."

"Then we'll need to do something about that."

He already had a basic plan in mind and it centered on the two weapons he had picked from the armory before leaving. The first was a M41 surface-to-surface rocket medium anti-vehicle/assault weapon with the maximum amount of rockets available for him to use as he would. This weapon would be part of the first stage of his plan. Then there was the second weapon on his back but, truth be told, he was worried that it might be a bit of overkill, considering how powerful it was. Sure, in the fictional world in which it came from one shot was enough to take out most aircraft or ground vehicles but the vehicles of the real world were of a decidedly different construction.

They weren't as well armored to say the least.

Still, he needed something that couldn't be intercepted.

The rockets fired by the M41 weren't especially different from the rockets used by conventional military forces in real life and many of the same countermeasures would work as well. If the people Chekov had with him were skilled enough, he could wind up missing his one chance at taking out his target if he used a missile.

What he had instead should make it impossible for interception or evasion.

"The plan is sound," Cortana said, sounding confident enough. "As long as Chekov doesn't get a sudden burst of unconventional thinking and doesn't catch on, this should go fairly well."

"Don't get cocky," he cautioned, not wanting overconfidence to affect his abilities. "With so many hostiles, anything could happen."

"True, there's always an element of uncertainty in any engagement, but I seriously doubt there's anyone in there capable of giving a SPARTAN-II a hard time." Cortana said with moderate agreement in her voice.

"They don't need to give me a hard time," he pointed out as he took the M41 off his back and prepped it for use. "They just need to get in my way long enough for Chekov to get range."

"They'll have to seriously swarm your position for that to work out," she said, not sounding worried. "For Chekov to get out of range he'd have to be riding in something that can get up to speed pretty damn quick and cover a lot of ground in under a minute. I don't see that happening."

He had to grudgingly admit that she was right about that last bit.

Every one of the aircraft he could see scattered about the base needed time to get off the ground and more time to reach their normal cruising speed. The soldiers would have to get pretty close to him and do quite a bit to prevent him from taking aim and firing. It wasn't like they could toss their bodies in the path of the shot and take a hit for the team. The firepower he was packing for his final blow would tear through a human body like it wasn't even there and still have enough strength to take out the target.

After all, there weren't any personal or vehicular shields in this reality.

At least none that weren't owned by Mayfield at the moment.

_**Willow's POV**_

Five seconds left.

Four seconds left.

One final check of the wind conditions and the position of the crosshairs on Strom's head to make sure she was ready.

Three seconds left.

Two seconds left.

As if some death god had decided to make things easier for her, Strom came to a stop, making it that much easier to hit him.

One second left.

_Breath and… squeeze the trigger._

She put her words into action.

In the blink of an eye the head of Carl Strom exploded like someone had detonated his brain with a mass of TNT.

Before his body hit the ground she moved over to the second container and popped it open to the only thing she'd been able to think of that would allow her to mop up the other witnesses as quickly as possible. Sure, in her mind at least, there was no way for any of the party guests to know that there was anything out of the ordinary about the sniper shot aside from the size of the bullet used but she doubted Mayfield would see things the same way.

The bitch wouldn't be happy with anything less than a massacre of every living soul on the property.

It made her sick what she was about to do but the image of her friends suffering and the memory of their pain being forced into her mind was all it took for her to keep going. Reaching into the container, she grabbed onto the handle of the weapon and pulled out the ultimate in area saturation weapons; the Man-portable M134 Minigun Motoko's ally Batou had used to hold back the Umibozu troops when they assaulted Section Nine headquarters.

Lowering the visor resting on her forehead and pressing a button, the device began to feed her information on remaining targets on the property, allowing her to be far more accurate with the minigun then should've been possible. Starting from the right, she began to lay down fire, with the ammunition being fed from two substantially large drums that had almost required a container too big for the van. One by one she directed fire at the dots on the visor that represented people, not letting up until the dot disappeared, signifying a confirmed kill. There were some scattered furniture and other obstructions on the property that she'd known in advance the other guests would attempt to hide behind but it wouldn't do them any good. When she'd selected this weapon she'd made sure to load it with the most powerful bullets that were compatible with the minigun to deal with that specific obstacle. While one bullet might not be able to penetrate some of the stronger cover, it would steadily chip away at the cover like a chisel, breaking away bits of stone the size of a ping-pong ball. Working her way over to the right side of the property, she did her best to use her ammunition efficiently while at the same time maximizing the body count.

By the time she ran out of bullets for the minigun she'd successfully saturated the entire property but, surprisingly, there were two targets still being shown by the satellite overhead. According to the information they were inside the house and apparently the construction was solid enough to take her high powered bullets without penetrating all the way through. Should she leave it at this? It was only two people who, for all she knew, were fatally wounded and would die soon enough without any extra help from her.

No, people like Mayfield, who she truly was when the cameras weren't on her, they never accepted anything other a perfect following of their orders.

_Better to finish this at a distance,_ she thought as she reached to the back of her neck and pulled out one of her interface wires.

Unlike a lot of the tech she'd hooked up to in past missions, her visor was made from the latest developed by Mayfield's scientists and as such she didn't need to use an socket adaptor. Once she was hooked into her visor she immediately began to hack her way into the orbiting satellite that she'd been using in order to repurpose it for her final two kills of the night. She doubted that Mayfield would've expected her to do this but, as long as this got results, then there'd be nothing to complain about.

It didn't take long for her to get into the house's systems and, just like she'd thought, a lot of the appliances and hardware were computer controlled. Like most people with wealth and power Strom must've felt the need to get all the latest in luxury conveniences and snazzy gadgets, so making it so that he could get breakfast started without even having to get out of bed was only natural. However in this case it provided her with the tools she needed to remove those final two dots from existence and all she needed to do was use them in the correct manner. A quick check confirmed that the stove was a gas version rather than electric so she turned the gas on full but did not let it ignite just yet. She'd need it to fill as much of the surrounding area as possible because, while her final two targets were close to the kitchen, they weren't actually IN the kitchen. She had to wait for the gas to spread far enough before she finally let the spark fly so, while she waited, she on a whim decided to do something exceedingly risky.

Still, she was TIRED of waiting for better chances to show up.

Leaving a monitoring program attached to gas stove, she worked her way through the network in the house and soon found Strom's computer. Cutting her way through the security programs with ease, she threw together a quick Easter egg program before sending it into the computer's memory in one burst. She didn't know how far the investigation into this massacre would go, if they would even bother to check the computer, but it was a chance she was willing to take.

If they could just let the opposing side know the name of their enemy then maybe a more promising opening would reveal itself to take back their freedom.

Turning back to the gas stove, she saw that that the invisible fumes had spread as far as she needed them to and so, with only half a second's reluctance, she commanded the spark to appear.

With all the flames one would expect from a big budget Hollywood action movie, the kitchen and the rooms surrounding it exploded, shattering glass and in some spots taking out chunks of the wall. With this showy send off the final two dots representing living people vanished, leaving nothing but the rough outline of the property and the house.

There was no satisfaction though, no sense of accomplishment.

Just a feeling of being surrounded by darkness with only a faint light to keep her hopes of freedom alive.

_**Dawn/Cameron's POV**_

Without a moment's hesitation she grabbed the decorative short sword and then promptly leapt up onto the desk, plunging the tip of the implement into the target's heart.

The weapon was not sharp, she knew this, but sufficient application of brute force ensured successful penetration, thus terminating the target.

Hearing the sound of movement behind her, she turned to see the second man in the room reaching for the gun in his shoulder holster. She pulled the short sword from the chest of her primary target then smoothly threw it through the air to pierce the witness' throat, partially exiting the back of the neck. According to her files on human biology, the man would be dead shortly but there was still a high probability that enough noise had been made to attract the attention of others within earshot.

Getting off the desk, she made her way towards the man, causing a spike in the dying human's fear levels, which resulted in a weak attempt to bring his weapon to bear on her. Pushing the gun hand to the side, she ripped the short sword from his neck in such a way so as to increase the rate of blood loss substantially. After the man fell to the ground she went down to one knee to retrieve his firearm, a Sig Saur P226 9mm pistol, as well as the two spare clips she found after a brief search. Pulling the slide back once to chamber a round, she stood up before walking to the door and exiting the office, finding five agents approaching her with weapons drawn.

"Drop the gun! Do it now!" demanded the forty-something man as he took aim.

Threat level: minimal.

Orders: terminate all witnesses after eliminating primary target.

She took aim at the heart of the lead agent and fired, moving onto the next target once the successful hit was confirmed. After the first two shots the enemy targets opened fire but they did little to affect her movements even as the incoming fire damaged her disguise along with her dermal layer. After she successfully terminated a third agent, the remaining two took cover furniture, most likely re-evaluate their tactics. Strategic simulations indicated that any delay in termination of structure occupants increased likelihood of one or more witnesses escaping.

This would violate standing orders from subject prime Athena.

Moving according to the dictates of her directives, she advanced on the locations of the two remaining members of the first group of targets, with her targeting systems ready to achieve a solid lock. The moment she had a direct line of sight on the first, she took aim and fired a shot into the man's head despite his attempt at evasion. The other target attempted to take advantage of what he no doubt thought was a moment of distraction but her movements proved faster.

He dropped to the ground with a single shot through the heart.

By this time more armed members of the center arrived and most hesitated when they saw the dead as well as the state of her clothes, allowing her to shoot first. Her shots made efficient use of every round in the magazine, smoothly ejecting the first one before sliding in another. When she passed near an office door she used her sensory suite to ascertain if anyone was inside and, if she had a clear shot at the person, she took it. By the time she reached the stairs she was already on her final magazine from the two she'd acquired from her second termination, so she began to prioritize targets with the high probability of having additional ammunition.

Once she had acquired fresh clips her optics informed her that the building occupants had abandoned confrontation and were instead seeking to flee. With the possibility of witnesses acquiring transport and dispersing in multiple directions, she decided that the time had come to implement the precautionary measure she took prior to entering the building. Reaching into her sole intact pocket, something she subtly ensured by using the rest of her endoskeleton as a shield, she withdrew the detonator and pressed the button.

A series of explosions filled the air with noise as the explosives she'd placed in the parking lot before sunrise detonated.

Disguised as bits of trash or placed where they could not be easily seen, her systems estimated a ninety-seven percent probability that all vehicles had been rendered inoperable. As secondary explosions from ignited fuel tanks followed, it was also probable that the fleeing humans had either been terminated or seriously wounded. Nevertheless, subject prime Athena's orders still stood until confirmation had been achieved so, after sliding a fresh magazine into her weapon, she exited the building while using her scanners to detect life signs.

For the ten minutes following her exit she terminated any residual life readings one by one, utilizing the most efficient search pattern possible. By the time that the sound of sirens and approaching vehicles reached her audio receptors, she had terminated many of the remaining life signs, with none remaining within range of her sensors. With her primary and secondary missions accomplished, she now had to withdraw from the area with all speed while avoiding any detection by law enforcers or civilians.

Breaking into a run, she used the files on the surrounding streets, buildings and high traffic areas to minimize the odds of detection as best she could until she arrived at the extraction point twenty minutes later. The side door to the van opened to reveal organic units loyal to subject prime Athena but she barely registered them as she entered the vehicle and sat down. Without a word the van exited the alley it had been waiting for her in and merged with traffic, blending into the background with ease on its way to a private airfield where the transport back to facility prime.

There she would wait for new orders.

_**Xander's POV**_

It hurt.

Every second the family of three took to get to the car, every moment he waited for them to enter so that he could get his dark deed over with, hurt him just as much as if he'd been physically stabbed. Inside he was at war with himself as his desire to protect his friends from harm warred with the knowledge that what he was about to do was absolutely wrong. One second he was resolved to carry out his assigned task to keep his friends from being hurt or maybe even executed, and the next he wondered if they'd really want to live knowing that their survival cost three innocent lives.

He knew that they'd been sent on their own missions of assassination but that didn't make his any easier to complete.

Even from as far away as he was, he could hear the trio speaking to each other much like he'd heard many loving families do before. Whatever Jean LaPierre might be involved with or what sort of person he was, it would take quite a bit to convince him that he deserved to die along with his family. Unless they were secretly a part of an international society, all three of them, with the long term goal of outdoing Hitler's concentration camps, death was just too severe by anyone's measure. Yet outright defying Mayfield would only result in harsh repercussions and he didn't have time to think up a way to fake their death in a way that'd convince everyone that mattered. If he'd been given a week and full access to LaPierre's file he might've been able to put something together and maybe even come up with an argument that'd change assassination to kidnapping.

But he didn't have that kind of time.

He hadn't been given that kind of time and he was pretty sure Mayfield had set it up deliberately so that neither he nor any of the others would have the option to come up with non-lethal plans. Classic Sith strategy: stain the hands of the good guys with so much blood it'll make them think they can never go back to who they'd been before. That had been the background plan all along since the very first mission in his opinion and this one was just making it that much easier to see the chains wrapping themselves around their limbs. However, just like a certain emperor, the blonde bitch failed to realize that nothing is more dangerous or more unpredictable than people who think they have nothing left to lose and body full of fury.

Hate was a potent painkiller and, when vengeance mattered more than survival, a person could take a lot and keep on going.

Whether S.E.C.O.N.D finally did what he wanted it to do or Mayfield put in front of the Scoobies a line that even they wouldn't cross to survive, he refused to let them remain slaves forever.

Freedom would be theirs one way or another.

Looking back at his designated target, a mixture of relief and disgust filled him as the trio finally made a move to enter their car. Seconds ticked by as the doors opened. Seconds ticked by as the wife, the daughter and the husband spent their last moments in the land of the living together. Believing it to be the least he could do, he memorized their faces, committed what he'd heard of their voices to memory, in order to ensure that the nightmares he would have in the days to come would be as vivid as possible. It'd be hell but, with all the lives he'd taken so far, it was probably for the best that he get a taste of what he'd be condemned to after he died.

When finally the entire family was in the car with doors closed, he pressed the button on the detonator and watched the consequences of his actions.

Flames engulfed the vehicle.

It was pushed off the ground only to slam into the ceiling of the parking level they were on.

Landing with a crash, everyone would conclude no one could survive such a blast.

The odds of there being enough for burial were bad considering the forces unleashed by the two explosions.

Feeling sick, he could barely bring himself to put the detonator back into the equipment belt he'd worn for the mission before making his way out of the parking garage. Unlike the others, he had to use the shadows whenever possible to give the cloaking ability of the nanosuit time to recharge but, thankfully, he didn't have far to go. The extraction vehicle was stationed only three blocks away and, once he was inside, it was smooth sailing from there.

Too bad he couldn't say the same for his thoughts.

Too bad he couldn't say the same for his life.

_**Buffy's POV**_

_Zoom… enhance… target confirmed._ she thought as her Solid Eye equipment confirmed Shen Xiaoyi's presence in the middle car.

Before doubt could creep into her mind, she cast off her coat and pulled out her high frequency blade from its sheath, charging the convoy of three cars. It must've looked like magic for the occupants of the vehicles, crossing the distance so quickly, but the death coming their way was all too real. As soon as she got within range of the lead vehicle she began swinging her blade back and forth, cutting it up like cucumber slices, stepping onto the wreckage as she went in order to go further. While to some the length of her blade was insufficient to reach those inside, the truth was that the electric current being sent through it could extend its range by almost seventy-five percent. It couldn't be lengthened indefinitely because it drained energy like nothing else but, when you could move fast enough to deflect bullets, there was no need to keep it going that long.

One after another she sliced through the entire convoy, leaving nothing but car slices behind her, the parts that had been touched by her blade glowing orange. As she left the rearmost car in convoy sliced to pieces, she touched down on the ground and slammed on the breaks, causing sparks to fly from the friction. Once she came to a stop, she looked back the way she'd come just in case there were survivors and could indeed see sliced bodies through the window frames.

To her shock, though, six bodyguards had somehow managed to get out of their vehicles before she could get to them and already they were drawing their guns. Anger rose in her that the bloody mission she had been sent would now be drawn out rather than be over in the blink of an eye, but fortunately there were six targets for her to work that anger out on. Charging the closest one, she almost negligently batted away the bullets being sent her way and she cut through him from hip to shoulder. It happened so fast it took the man a second to realize what had happened before the two halves fell apart in opposite directions. The remaining men were split up two to one to two, preventing her from taking them all out in one fell swoop. Worse than that, their positions allowed them to catch her in a crossfire, forcing her to put some effort in deflecting their bullets, but she managed just the same.

Seeing a shard of metal close by, she kicked it up to about neck level and then, with a reverse spin kick, sent it shooting through the air, burying itself three inches deep into the chest of the bodyguard who was on his own. He probably didn't have enough time to even think before he fell dead to the ground.

The remaining bodyguards were shaken by this development, causing their rate of fire to increase, almost making it sound like there was a single gun going full auto.

It didn't do them any good.

Sprinting, she went for the pair of bodyguards with the fewest obstructions between the two of them, reversing the grip on her blade as she went. Bringing the blade up in front of her in a proper ready position, she adjusted it as needed to deflect incoming shots and she leapt. With the flash of the blade she passed them, landing ten feet behind them but then, like puppets whose strings had been cut, both men dropped to the ground, their heads jostled off when their knees touched the ground.

Looking back at her work, she couldn't help but feel some satisfaction at the cleanness of the cut that happened faster than the human eye could perceive. She'd never have been able to do it as just an ordinary Slayer with the usual blades available to the Council and it made her look at her high frequency blade, wishing that she could keep it once they were all back to normal. Sadly she knew that it needed electric current to work its magic and no battery on Earth would be practical for a night of slayage. Seeing the light play off the blade, off the blood decorating it, she could see a certain beauty to it but a bullet whizzed by her head before she could think further on it. Turning her head, she could see that the two final bodyguards were looking at her, fear plastered all over their bodies as they tried to kill her.

_Their fear…_she thought as she brought her blade up.

…_**is SO sweet!**_ Jackie said from the darkness of her mind.

Leaping into the air, she tucked into a ball once she reached the apex of her leap and placed her blade into the foot clamp between the balls of her right foot and its heel. Then, just like she'd wanted, she came down on one of the remaining bodyguards just as he looked up, mouth gaping open in shock.

It was a perfect sheath for her blade if she did say so herself.

She slid it right into the man's mouth and, with her weight added to the speed, the blade sunk into the flesh until it got to the hilt and her foot. With her artificial muscles she flung her upper body forward and she dug with the talons in her fingers into the dirt, lifting the impaled man off the ground. With instinct alone she swung him so hard in the direction of the last bodyguard that the body slid off the blade, hurtling through the air until it hit the man. In a tangle of bloody limbs the last survivor of a six man bodyguard team hit the ground and soon began screaming in terror has his tenuous professional state shattered.

Pouncing on the man just as he got out from under his head comrade, she pinned him to the ground and looked him straight in the eye.

"Shhhh! You'll wake the neighbors," she said with mock warning before she solidified her grip on his shoulders and PULLED.

The screams reaching a new frightening high pitch as she literally tore the man in half down the middle, holding a bloody mass of meat in each hand. Throwing them to the ground with a little contempt, she was caught in haze of… something… but then she heard the click-clack of feet desperately trying to run away. Turning her head, she saw a woman running and she realized that there was one more person she had to kill.

_I could just run her down… but that would be too boring now. _

Sheathing her blade, she scooped a fallen guard's pistol up quickly off the ground and could tell by the weight of it that it almost had a full clip in it. With casualness she took aim at the fleeing woman. For a moment she couldn't decide where to shoot so, on a whim, she fired the next time it was lined up with something and waited to see what'd happen.

"Aaahhhh!" Shen screamed as the bullet tore through her right lower leg, causing her to fall to the ground.

_Hmmmm… maybe I was too quick to reject Xan's idea for adding guns to the Slayer arsenal,_ she thought as she began to walk towards her target. _Even if they can't kill a vamp or a demon, the right one can cause pain or disable them long enough to finish them off._

Indeed, while some demons might have natural armor that was capable of protecting them from smaller caliber weapons, if someone were to fire an armor piercing round, that'd go right through that armor. If they needed more then they'd just keep upping the caliber or type of gun as needed. Yes! It made perfect sense! Making a mental note she took aim once more when Xiaoyi got onto her sole uninjured leg to try to hobble away and took care of that with one shot through the knee. The woman cried out in pain as she fell to the floor but, whether it was due to the shock or the adrenaline, the Chinese woman still tried to pull herself to safety with just her arms.

She couldn't help but chuckle a bit at how stupid the woman was.

An old man with arthritis could keep up with her as slow as she was going!

_It'd be cruel to have her last moments be filled with the illusion that she could've gotten away._

With that in mind she fired four shots, one to each elbow and shoulder, immobilizing her prey completely but only giving the screams of pain new life. Closing the distance between the two of them, she soon arrived at the writhing woman's side and, with a light kick (well, light for her), knocked the woman onto her back.

"Ooops! Looks like I cracked a couple of your ribs there," she said conversationally at the sound of the bones breaking. "Don't worry, though. The pain won't last much longer."

To the woman's credit she finally seemed to find her inner fire as she glared with fury and defiance in her eyes.

"Qù xià dì yù gǒurìde!" Shen Xiaoyi growled in Chinese or something.

"Sorry but I don't understand Chinese," she said, bringing the gun up to point at the woman's head. "Can you understand this?"

Two quick shots, a bullet into each eye, finally terminated her target but, as she looked at the new member of the dead, she felt an odd sensation of familiarity about this scene. It was… odd… because she couldn't remember anything like this scene.

A siren cut through her thoughts and in an instant the world snapped into unbelievable clarity. Shock filled her as she remembered not only her actions of the last couple of minutes but also her words and thoughts. It wasn't like a blackout but rather like the core traits of who she was as a person, as a human being, had for a time done a one eighty. The second her eyes fell upon the gun in her hand she dropped it like it was a white hot piece of steel fresh from the forge and backed away from it on somewhat shaky legs.

_Wha… wha… what did I… what did I just do?!_ she thought as she looked about at the destruction, the carnage and the death.

Her mind was in conflict between memories showing her precisely what had happened and her refusal to believe that she'd ever commit such bloodthirsty acts. Plunging into denial as best she could, she took off for the extraction point, only peripherally aware of the fact that she was taking the route that'd give her the best concealment options. Neither person nor car nor helicopter would see her as she moved to the van parked ten blocks away and, once she was inside, she continued her efforts to deny what her memories were telling her.

It was ridiculous!

IT WAS IMPOSSIBLE!

Those two phrases kept repeating themselves for quite a while but, as time passed, her mind stopped believing the bullshit she was trying to force on it.

It had happened and, not for the first time in her life, she mourned as another part of her innocence died a painful death inside of her.

_**Giles' POV**_

"Showtime, Caveman." Cortana said as the timer finally hit zero on his HUD.

He squeezed the trigger on the M41 and watched as the rocket shot out at impressive speeds towards the helicopter. However he didn't stand and watch because, in order for his plan to work, he had to get to the next position as quickly as possible and, fortunately for a SPARTAN-II, that was pretty damn fast. Thankfully he was far enough away from the perimeter fence and had enough surrounding forest to keep the soldiers on the base from noticing the disturbing of the environment he caused while he ran, cloaked, to the next position. The moment he arrived he took aim at the first available target to show up in the weapon's crosshairs and fired, once more running to the next position the second the rocket left the launcher. Again and again he repeated the process because it was crucial to his strategy to keep the Russian soldiers from focusing on any one location.

That was an absolute necessity if his 'ghost army' tactic was going to work.

By the time he got to the fourth position and prepared to fire, the entire base was on alert with troops scrambling out of every building, weapons at the ready. Peripherally he could tell that they were trying to find the source of the attack along with the soldiers that'd been outside at the time, but with his active camo online and the forest obscuring his position, that'd be impossible. Nevertheless, now that he'd drawn the most of them out, he'd have to be a bit more selective with his targets in order to inspire the necessary fear.

"Fuel tank at ten o'clock!" Cortana declared, causing him to instantly adjust his aim.

He found it in seconds and, as soon as his crosshairs hit the center of the fuel tank, no doubt used to refuel the aircraft, he fired. Even as he ran to the next position, he could both hear the blast as well as see the brief surge in orange light caused by the flames. He imagined that it made quite the impression on the soldiers, given the initial explosion and the damage it did to the surrounding area around the fuel tank. He could hear orders being issued in Russian from multiple sources and thankfully Cortana was providing him with English translations in real time, with different colored text to signify different people. The base personnel were moving as quickly as they could to take up a defensive posture and apparently had fallen for his ruse, believing that they were under attack from more than one person. However nothing had come up so far to indicate that Chekov was being evac'd from the area, so he needed to turn up the heat even more.

Arriving at the fifth position, he took in the current situation and the base with close attention to the spots with the highest troop concentrations.

_There!_ he thought as he spotted a particularly large group near one of the anti-aircraft installations.

Firing a rocket at it, he moved onto the sixth location and, after his first step, he heard explosions as not only his rocket but also those racked on top of the anti-aircraft installation detonated. This definitely stirred things up if the added commotion was anything to go by and now some of the soldiers were firing blindly into the forest in an attempt to hit him. Too bad for them that he was moving at SPARTAN speeds.

It wasn't until he'd fired his second last rocket that things finally started moving in the right direction.

"They're evacing Chekov by chopper." Cortana declared once she intercepted the necessary data.

"Good. One last rocket to fire then we wait."

Deciding to take out another one of the anti-aircraft installation, he took aim and fired before moving to the final destination that had been picked out since it'd give him the best shot at taking out Chekov's escape vehicle, whether it was by land or air. He'd been a little worried en route that letting up pressure after the final shot would cause them to reconsider getting Chekov out of the area but dismissed it. It was standard military tactics to soften up an enemy with heavy weapons before charging in with the main force, so the Russians likely wouldn't take any chances with their senior officer.

Slinging the M41 onto his back, he brought forth the weapon he'd chosen specifically for the purpose of taking out a vehicle carrying his Russian target; the M6 Grindell/Galilean Nonlinear Rifle, also known as the Spartan Laser.

Some might consider it overkill but since failure was not an option for him, he decided that overkill was better than underkill. When added to the fact that the laser was designed to punch through UNSC and Covenant vehicles, he figured it was pretty safe to say that one shot would be all it'd take to do the job.

Keeping his eyes peeled for his target, it took a minute but eventually he saw Chekov being escorted out of the building where he'd been addressing the troops by give men covering all angles of approach. They were leading him to one of the Mi-24 helicopters that was positioned in what they probably believed was the least likely to get hit spot.

Too bad for them that he'd chosen a spot that gave him clear line of sight to all of the aircraft.

He waited until the chopper began to lift up off the ground before taking aim with the Spartan Laser, choosing to make the impact point right where he guessed Chekov would be sitting. If he was right then, once the target was hit, it'd ignite any liquid flammables close by, taking out the entire Mi-24 along with everyone on board. Seconds passed by as the chopper soared higher and higher but, once it was high enough up that no one could bail out without killing themselves in the fall, he fired. After a short second or two of charging a crimson beam shot out of the nonlinear rifle, punching through the chopper like it was made of tinfoil. The beam had gone through without any resistance whatsoever and, just like he'd predicted, it'd lit up every flammable liquid being piped through the aircraft. With an impressive explosion that tore the chopper to pieces, flaming bits raining down to the ground with nothing being bigger than a basketball remaining.

"Mission accomplished," he said though it felt so bitter letting those words spring from his lips.

Given the type of woman Mayfield had proven herself to be, he knew the odds of Chekov deserving death were slim to none and, with no details, who knew how many loved ones would be in mourning in the weeks to come. For years it had been his duty as a Watcher to protect humanity from the hostile demons and supernatural entities that existed throughout the world. When he was assigned to Buffy, it became his duty to do all in his power to support her in her Calling regardless of the risk to himself. Later, as the head of the New Council, it became his duty to administrate the organization to maximize the effectiveness in order to ensure that they did as much good as they possibly could while minimizing needless casualties. The memories he had inherited from Master Chief Petty Officer John One One Seven told him that the SPARTAN-II took his duty to defend humanity very seriously. The man often took reckless chances and disregarded his own personal safety when that was the only way to save lives.

Now… between his own memories and the ones that'd come with his transformation into the Master Chief, he felt as though he'd betrayed everything he'd ever stood for.

Slinging the SPARTAN laser onto his back, he withdrew from the military base's perimeter and began to make his way towards the extraction point where the cloaked Pelican awaited him. As soon as he was sure that he was well outside the range of any prying eyes, organic or electronic, he turned off his active camo as it was no longer required. Trudging through the wild, it took twenty minutes to reach the UNSC created aircraft and, once he was inside, the rear hatch closed allowing the transport to rise into the air.

Sitting down on one of the seats especially made to withstand the weight of an armored SPARTAN, he descended into thought with nothing else left to do.

"Endure, Chief," Cortana said with weary tone. "Endure like SPARTANS always have and wait for opportunity to come your way."

He took what solace he could in her words and used them to shore up his spirit.

His soul was strong but even the mightiest of structures could be made to fall, given enough time.


	5. Reactions and Portents

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the copyrighted material contained herein. They are the rightful property of their respective creators and/or associated companies. I make no profit off of this whatsoever and I have no intention of changing things in the future. I write because it's fun and because there are those who enjoy reading my works. Therefore I would greatly appreciate it if no lawsuits were sent my way and no criminal charges laid. I can guarantee that whatever you get from me won't even cover a tenth of your legal fees.

_**Six Hours Later, The Pentagon, Colonel Samantha Carter's POV**_

_I wonder what's so important that General O'Neill want to see me?_ she thought was she entered the building itself and began to navigate her way to the briefing room her former C.O had asked her to go to.

She had been hip deep in data, trying to figure out precisely what had happened to Area Fifty-One when he'd called, and unfortunately she hadn't been able to provide him with much more in the way of information on how it'd been done. She'd been able to confirm thus far that it had indeed been Hawking radiation, leading to the logical conclusion that a mini-black hole had indeed been temporarily created. This boggled the mind since she'd never known one to be made then simply disappear after a few seconds. Everything she'd known about black holes told her that once they formed they stayed formed indefinitely, with nothing known being able to shut one down.

The glassed ground touched by the phenomena had been confirmed as existing five kilometers down, forming an almost perfect half sphere. This confirmed all the other data from the survivors of the shape of the phenomena but still left the question of how it'd been accomplished in the first place. No technology she'd encountered in her long career could create black holes and then collapse them, so she was currently working under the hypothesis that the artificial black holes were naturally unstable. It would explain their temporary nature since the instability would cause it to collapse in on itself after a few seconds once it passed a certain size requirement.

For someone to turn such a device into a weapon… she didn't like the implications.

Earth and its allies would suffer massive casualties before figuring out how to properly protect themselves, making her pray that the devices were difficult to make and could not be produced in bulk.

She had managed a little better with her investigations into what'd cut the wired communications for the Groom Lake facility but it was still something of a mystery. According to her data, the impact points had been struck with an unknown type of incendiary gel, superheating the affected area and utterly destroying the cables. Her preliminary analysis indicated that it could be some kind of plasma based weaponry but she'd need more time to confirm that beyond a reasonable doubt. One of the other technicians assigned to analyze had said something about feeling like he knew something that connected the two but that he couldn't put his finger on it. She'd told him to keep thinking and to let her know if something more definite came to him.

_I wonder if Jack's feeling the pressure from above and that's why he's calling me in?_ she thought as she entered the elevator that'd take her up a floor. _If he's looking for something to throw them to make them back off, I'm afraid he's going to have to look elsewhere._

The elevator door was just starting to close when someone yelled "HOLD THE DOOR!"

On reflex she did just that but, when the person who yelled reached the elevator, she got a rather pleasant surprise.

"Dad!" she exclaimed with surprise and joy as her father, General Jacob Carter, entered her field of vision. "What're you doing here?!"

It had been a couple of months since the last time she'd seen him but ever since the close call a little under four years ago, she was grateful for every moment they had together.

It had been almost four years ago that her father had almost perished when the Tok'ra symbiote Selmak fell into a coma. While it hadn't been enough to keep them from successfully reprogramming the super weapon on Dakara in order to defeat the Replicator threat, it had caused her father's health to take a drastic turn for the worse soon after. The two life forms had been so closely interwoven after years of being blended that Selmak's deterioration had been echoed in her father's human body. Everyone had thought they were witnessing the final days of General Jacob Carter but at the last minute his vitals began to climb closer to what could be considered healthy. It took a few hours but eventually her father woke up with his body well on the way to making a full recovery. There had been many theories as to what'd happened and why they'd been blessed with a change in luck but no real satisfactory explanation had been devised. The best they'd been able to come up with had been that Selmak had briefly managed to rise halfway out of her coma and somehow, instinctively perhaps, had managed to severe the connection between the two of them. After that there had been nothing keeping her father's body from recovering and eventually regaining consciousness.

With the loss of the symbiote, though, the Tok'ra had been even less trusting than before of her father and had effectively cut him out of the loop. In their eyes he'd been reduced from the host of one of their oldest members to merely an errand boy to convey what information they chose to give the SGC to them, as well as pass along whatever demands they might have. Their previous distrust had come from the belief that her father had divided Selmak's loyalties between Earth and the Tok'ra but after the symbiote's death her father had been seen not as kin but as an outsider. Her father had stuck it out for as long as he could, had done his best to not only maintain the alliance, but also improve its condition, but in the end the reduction in their numbers at the hands of Anubis had changed them drastically. They'd gone from a group determined to bring about the end of the Goa'uld System Lords to people more concerned with preserving themselves and their society than taking action. In the end they'd pretty much been reduced to a source of information for the SGC rather than people that could be called upon to help in a fight.

Eventually her father had gotten fed up with his treatment and resigned, returning to Earth to become a military consultant. While her father didn't retain all of Selmak's knowledge, there was still a healthy amount in his brain and, after an initial transcribing of all he could recall, the top brass put him on call for whenever they came across something very old or exotic. There had been several times that the few tidbits of knowledge he'd retained had proved vital during their struggle against the Ori but lately he'd been talking about retirement. While there was still a threat of sorts out there in the form of the Lucian Alliance, it was the basic consensus that there were no more credible threats to Earth or its off world allies any longer. With no dire need of his services her father had told her he was finally going to hang up his uniform and enjoy his remaining years doing whatever retired people do. In fact he'd be officially out of the service in four months, assuming no new threat presented itself.

For a moment her mind considered that the destruction of Area Fifty-One and hoped that her father's retirement wouldn't be put on hold for the foreseeable future.

He'd more than earned it in her opinion.

"Jack called me in to take a look at some intel he was handed a couple of hours ago," he replied as he got into the elevator and pressed the button for the second floor. "He wouldn't say what it was over the phone but, given how he sounded, I think something big has happened."

"Bigger than what happened to the Groom Lake facility?" she asked, worried that her earlier concern about a new threat being on the move might be more real than she'd intended.

"He didn't say," he replied as they reached the second floor and the doors opened.

"Then let's go find out." they left the elevator and began to make their way to the briefing room.

It didn't take long and, when they entered, they found a few high ranking officers, some foreign representatives if her eyes judged right, and Jack waiting for them.

"Jacob, Sam, glad you could make it so quickly," Jack said with a cracked smile before gesturing to the two empty seats. "As much as I'd like to catch up, things've gotten a little volatile in the last couple of hours. So if you could take your seats we can get this briefing underway."

It shocked her for a moment to see her old commanding officer so business-oriented since usually he preferred to keep things informal. If things had gotten bad enough that the General was deviating from his normal ways, something big indeed must've happened. Shaking herself out of it, she went to her seat and, when both her and her father were in their seats, Jack clicked a button, causing the lights to dim and the cover of a report to appear on the projection screen.

"Most of you already know why we're here but since there are a few who don't I'll summarize things." Jack said taking on a tone befitting a General. "Six hours ago five separate members of the International Oversight Advisory committee were killed along with many of the people around their immediate vicinity. Carl Strom, Russel Chapman, Shen Xiaoyi, Jean LaPierre and Colonel Chekov were all killed at precisely the same time at their respective locations around the world. Normally this wouldn't be enough to be brought to the attention of Homeworld Security but when people began canvassing the crime scenes they found out some interesting tidbits.

"Carl Strom was killed outside his home while he was holding a gathering of friends, family and VIPs. Rumor around the water cooler was that he had plans to begin a political career," Jack explained after pressing a button that caused in image of a lawn covered in bodies to appear. "There was no warning of the attack. One second everything was fine the next Strom had been decapitated by a high caliber sniper round. Forensic teams found the bullet but thus far haven't been able to match it to any known gun. After the initial kill the assassin opened up with a minigun and began to systematically kill every other person present at the party before seizing control of the automated gas stove in the house and causing it to detonate, killing two people who'd taken refuge close by."

"A minigun?" she asked still a bit stunned by the initial revelation. "Did the killer enter the property? If they did then the security systems must've caught a picture."

"No. The security of the home and the grounds have already been reviewed and no one entered or approached the property between when the shooting started and when law enforcement arrived." O'Neill replied, shaking his head in the negative.

"But a minigun isn't an effective weapon at the same range as a sniper rifle," Jacob said, pointing out what any military officer knew. "To kill the party guests like you said, he or she would've needed to get much closer."

"Normally that would be the case but no shell casings or footprints were found within the prescribed effective range of a minigun. The current theory is that the minigun was somehow augmented to increase its range and accuracy," said the head of Homeworld Security. "When the network in the house was examined there were 'fingerprints' left behind by whoever took control of the automated gas stove. While the security on the household network wasn't anything impressive, the computer technicians indicated that the perpetrator must have been a high level hacker given the short amount of time between initial contact with the system and the changes had been made. The hacker even left behind what they're calling an 'Easter Egg' program on Strom's computer but so far they haven't been able to crack it. They figure it's a calling card of sorts."

"I'd be willing to take a crack at it, sir." she said, volunteering her scientific services.

"I appreciate the offer, Colonel, but we've already assigned Doctor McKay to the task," Jack said with a bit of a wince. "If or when he fails, it'll be handed over to you."

She knew where the wince came from.

While Rodney was without a doubt a brilliant scientist, his ego often made him difficult to interact with.

"Ambassador Holland will summarize the assassination that occurred in the United Kingdom." O'Neill said before turning to the balding man in question.

"At the same time as the attack on Carl Strom, our IOA representative Russel Chapman was attacked and killed inside the Defence Intelligence and Security Centre, along with all employees present at the time." Holland said after General O'Neill pressed a button to change the projection image to that of a split image with a demolished parking lot on the left and a chaotic office area on the right. "Based on evidence gathered, the assassin infiltrated the centre and made her way to Mister Chapman's office whereupon she killed him by stabbing him through the heart with a decorative sword that normally rested on his desk. She then killed a man he'd been meeting with at the time before beginning a systematic killing of everyone in the building. Some of the people managed to make it out into the parking lot but the assassin had planted explosives at strategic points and detonated them."

"She? You know who the assassin is?" she asked, a bit surprised to have a face to go with the killing.

"Based on evidence found at the scene she infiltrated as a transfer from another facility and created a situation that would allow her access to Chapman's office," Holland replied before nodding to O'Neill to change a picture taken from a security camera. "We've already confirmed that the records and information are false and were inserted by an outside party. Nevertheless we've put out an alert to all British intelligence agencies to report in immediately if she is found. Granted, we are aware that she may undergo plastic surgery to change her face but it's better than nothing."

The image wasn't the clearest but it did give information to judge the height, weight, build and some of the basic facial features of the assassin. The face wasn't easy to make out and to her it looked like the hairstyle and the glasses had been specifically chosen to obscure as much of the face as possible without attracting attention or arousing suspicion. Assuming that the assassinations had indeed been a group effort, they'd obviously gone to significant lengths to conceal their true identities.

"The fact that caused us to contact Homeworld Security though was the fact that the weapons available to employees of the Centre had no effect on her whatsoever." Holland said before turning his head to Jack. "If you'd replay the video footage, General O'Neill?"

The head of Homeworld Security nodded and security footage began to play on the screen with the time stamp showing six hours ago, UK time. It showed the assassin methodically and almost mechanically killing everyone she could even to the point of firing shots into rooms. However what was also shown was the fact that several bullets from Centre employees successfully hit the young woman but appeared to have no effect beyond causing her to stumble when the shotguns and assault rifles were used. At first she'd thought that the assassin had been wounded but when no telltale signs of injury or impaired movement showed after a couple of minutes, that theory was disproven.

"Most of my contemporaries believe the woman was simply wearing experimental body armor and had a painkiller cocktail in her system but, given what Homeworld Security and the SGC deal with, I thought otherwise." Holland said, apparently concluding his summary. "I don't think I need to tell you my superiors are up in arms at one of our most important facilities being decimated like this. We're all hoping you can help us apprehend the perpetrator or at least prevent a repeat."

"I assure you, Ambassador, Homeworld Security will do everything it can to bring this assassin to justice and help you upgrade your security." Jack said with resolve and conviction.

"Thank you, General." Holland said with a nod of thanks.

"While I do not have as much intelligence as Ambassador Holland, I do hope you will be willing to do the same for us. Monsieur LaPierre was well liked among his co-workers and others in the government," Ambassador Deveroux stated with a moderate accent. "His family is taking the deaths of him, his wife and his daughter particularly poorly. I understand that those closest to him had to be sedated."

"Homeworld Security and the SGC are taking this matter very seriously," General O'Neill said, turning to the French Ambassador. "We will help everyone to keep these attacks from happening again and ensure the apprehension of those responsible. What can you tell us about the assassination?"

"Only that the assassin waited until LaPierre and his family were in their car before detonating an excessive amount of semtex placed on the underside of the vehicle." Ambassador Deveroux replied as the image on the screen changed to the burnt out husk of a car. "All three were killed instantly and there was… little left… by the time the fires were put out."

"What exactly do you mean by excessive?" Jacob asked with some grimness.

"According to our explosives expert the assassin used three times the amount of semtex necessary to kill LaPierre and his family. The fact that one of the blocks was placed next to the car's fuel tank only made it more unnecessary." Ambassador Deveroux replied, making many who were knowledgeable of explosives to raise their eyebrows in surprise.

"Obviously someone who doesn't understand the concept of overkill," muttered one of the other generals present.

"Another possibility is that these assassins believe in being thorough," Chinese representative Li Chung said, putting in his point of view. "That was certainly the case in the assassination of representative Shen Xiaoyi."

"Washington D.C police arrived at the scene in response to a nine one one call from a nearby apartment holder. They arrived ten minutes after the call and there were signs that representative Xiaoyi had been killed less than two minutes prior," General O'Neill explained since the assassination had occurred in America. "A search of the surrounding area was conducted in an effort to locate the assassin but no one has been found as of yet. The search is still ongoing but, as I'm sure you all realize, the longer it goes on the less likely the perpetrator is still in the area. Nevertheless we'll continue the search until this had been confirmed or other information is surfaces."

"Were you able to determine what weapon was used in the assassination?" Chinese representative Li Chung asked with a voice most firm.

"Not as yet. That's one of the reasons I asked Colonel Carter to come here." General O'Neill replied, turning in the right direction.

"I'll do what I can, sir," she said as she was given a folder thick with papers and photographs.

As she opened the folder she could see out of the corner of her eye her father leaning over a bit to get a look as well. While not a scientist, if these assassins were from off world or if they'd gotten their weapons from off world, it was possible that he might be able to help using the residual memories of Selmak.

The first photograph was a close up of a car but, from what she could see, it had been sliced into portions varying from a few inches in width to over a foot. While it was somewhat hard to tell, it looked as though the edges of each sliced portion were just beginning to lose a hot orange glow, implying a superheated implement. She considered for a moment that some sort of energy weapon had been used but after looking through three more photographs involving the cars, she did not believe this to be the case. There was little if any damage done to the street beneath each car and, given the clean separation of each piece of the car, such a precise weapon would've left telltale signs on the concrete.

"Any ideas, Colonel?" General O'Neill asked, bringing her out of her thoughts.

"Well from what I can tell, whatever did this did it with great precision but I don't think it was an energy weapon like the ones we know of," she replied, ordering her thoughts. "It's too precise. If I had to guess, I'd say it was some sort of blade, either composed of energy or superheated in nature that cut through the cars."

Looking through more of the photographs, she came upon some of bodies rather than vehicles, making her a little squeamish. From what she could see, the… stump… of the man's neck had been burned significantly but not cauterized like she'd expected based on what happened to the cars. There were burns present but they were inconsistent, pushing her away from an energy blade or even a superheated blade since either would've produced more consistent burns based on her knowledge. It took almost a full minute of consideration but it was enough to refine her hypothesis a bit.

"No, scratch that," she said as she continued to look through the photographs of the bodies who she presumed were bodyguards. "The burns aren't consistent enough on the bodies for either an energy blade or a superheated one. It's just a theory but the only thing I can think of that might've done this is a high frequency blade."

"What's that?" Representative Li Chung asked with mild curiosity.

"They're typically swords reinforced by a powerful alternating current and resonates at extremely high frequencies. This oscillation is capable of weakening the molecular bonds of anything it cuts, increasing the cutting ability substantially," she replied, recalling what little she remembered on the subject. "It's been done in the lab but the power requirements are too great for a practical version to be made for combat. You'd need to connect it to a generator by cable to make it work."

"Not exactly something that'd be effective in a fight since all the enemy would need to do is cut off your power," her father said, looking away from the photographs. "No off world race that Selmak knew of used blades like that. They either used normal blades or firearms of some kind."

"So either someone on Earth managed a breakthrough or someone off world has developed a taste for sharp objects with a little extra oomph." Jack said, showing a bit of his former self.

"They're fast, too," she said as something occurred to her. "How good were the bodyguards assigned to representative Xiaoyi?"

"They were all competent men if that is what you mean." Representative Li Chung replied strongly to the question. "They once served in our military and have years of experience protecting our dignitaries and representatives."

"Then they would've seen the assassin coming," she said as she tried her best to put the pieces together. "The pictures make it look like the perp went from the front car to the back car in one go. If none of them were able to back up and get away then she must've overtaken them before they could do that. If they saw their attacker coming but couldn't get the cars moving in time, that'd imply that the killer could move at superhuman speeds. The most they must've been able to do was get out of their cars before the assassin got to them."

"That matches the initial police reports. While six bodyguards and representative Xiaoyi made it out of the cars, the drivers and one other bodyguard didn't." O'Neill said to the assembled group. "They were sliced up along with the vehicles."

Looking further through the photographs, she eventually came upon the one showing the dead body of representative Xiaoyi herself. Unlike the others, she hadn't been killed with a high frequency blade but rather several gunshots. One to each leg, four to each arm and one to each eye, with the last two she suspected being the ones that finally ended the woman's suffering. What had caused the change in weaponry? Choice or whim?

A sudden brief gasp from her father however dragged her out of her thoughts and, when she turned to ask him what was wrong, she saw a look on his face she'd only seen a few times. Each time he'd just come back from a mission overseas that had either gone particularly badly or where he'd seen something particularly disturbing.

"You see something you recognize, Dad?" she asked wondering what memory of Selmak's had risen to the surface of his mind.

"Nothing definite," he replied a moment later. "I'll need to think about it a bit."

He was lying.

Her father was many things but when it came to lying, she could tell with a glance and if she was right, then he knew more than what he was willing to share. She didn't know why but she knew he had to have his reasons. She'd wait until after the debriefing was completed and they could have some privacy before she confronted him about his lie. Hopefully the only reason he was keeping the information to himself was because he didn't want anyone aside from her or Jack to know about it.

She'd hate to think it was something that he couldn't trust her with.

_**General O'Neill's Office, Ninety-Minutes Later, General Jacob Carter's POV**_

Has it really happened? Had his worst fear from twenty years ago really come to pass?

Those were the two questions he'd asked himself ever since he'd seen the photograph of the dead Chinese representative but at the moment he found himself unable to give a definite answer. A part of him thought that it could just be a coincidence, that the assassin could be someone other than the person in his mind, but the placement of those shots… it just matched his memory a little too well. Sipping from the cup of coffee in his hand, he barely repressed a shudder as the memories of what he'd seen began to seep through the cracks in the wall he'd hidden them behind. As he raised his eyes to look at the two other people in the room, he could tell that his repression hadn't been entirely effective and that only added only made his reflex action back in the briefing room even more suspicious no doubt.

"Is something wrong, Dad?" Sam asked with concern in her voice. "You looked a little upset back in the briefing room when you saw representative Xiaoyi's picture."

"I was just reminded of something I'd seen twenty years ago," he replied before dumping the empty cup into the nearest trash bin. "It made me think of someone in particular but I hope to God I'm wrong."

"You have an idea who the assassin might be?" General O'Neill asked, sounding somewhat surprised and interested.

"An idea might be a bit of an overstatement," he replied as his emotions warred within him. "It's more like a gut instinct, a hunch, more than anything else."

Silence reigned for a few minutes and he realized that they were hoping he'd elaborate on his statement a bit more. Looking at his daughter, he warred with himself over whether he should say anything or if he should be 'selective' with the truth. In the end he decided that the old saying that a half truth was worse than any lie so he decided to go for full disclosure.

First, though, he had to make sure of something.

_I knew I'd have to use it sometime but I'd hoped it wouldn't be for a while,_ he thought as he took out a little 'severance package' he had taken upon severing ties with the Tok'ra.

It was a device that deep cover agents used whenever they needed to meet with a comrade and a secure location wasn't possible. It interfered with both audio and visual monitoring devices, inducing static in the latter, while causing white noise to render the former useless. They were only ever used for brief meetings since using it for too long would only expose the covert operative's presence when the interference could no longer be explained away as technical difficulties. With the press of a button any security cameras or microphones in the room would be rendered useless. While they might not be in Goa'uld territory at the moment he'd still have to make this story as short as he could since blacking out a room in the Pentagon would probably stir up some trouble.

"This'll let us talk without anyone eavesdropping," he explained as he put the device on Jack's desk. "What I'm about to say isn't to leave this room because it could get me and a few other people in deep trouble since certain laws were ignored. Understand?"

"We won't tell anyone, Jacob," Jack said, understanding the seriousness of the situation.

After getting a nod from Sam he decided it was time to tell his story.

"This little story begins in nineteen eighty-eight. You might remember it was your third year at the Air Force Academy I called to reschedule our get together Sam. I told you it was because something had come up that I couldn't talk about." he said, laying down the groundwork.

"Yeah, I remember because I was kind of happy since it'd give me time to work on my extra credit project." Sam said nodding as she recalled the time in question.

"Well the truth is I was called over to Italy to help with a series of abductions that'd been occurring in Rome at the time. You might've heard about it over here since one of the people abducted was Utah senator's daughter who'd been vacationing there with him at the time."

"Yeah, it was big news," Jack said, nodding in recollection. "Over twenty people, with more than half of them being pre-teen girls were taken over the course of two weeks. The entire country was throwing a fit and the senator was calling in every favor he could to find his daughter."

"Turns out I was one of those favors," he explained, remembering the call he'd received. "We knew each other back in our college days and we've gotten together whenever both our schedules were free. He called me after he lost his patience with the local law enforcement and wanted me to come over to head up the American side of the joint investigation."

"They let you do that? I would've thought they'd give it to someone from the FBI or CIA." Jack said, sounding a bit surprised.

"They would've but the good senator wasn't particularly fond of alphabet agencies, American or otherwise, but had a much better opinion of soldiers and the military." He remembered the jurisdiction issues caused when he'd arrived. "It took some doing but he managed put me in the driver's seat of the American side of the investigation. However when I got there, I met with an entirely new and definitely personal reason for wanting to help with the investigation. Do you remember your Aunt Joyce, Sam?"

"Of course! I used to babysit Lizzie for her and Uncle Hank when we all lived in Pittsburgh." Sam said, smiling at the memories of her little cousin before turning to Jack. "In fact they moved L.A in nineteen eighty-nine if I remember right."

"Yeah… well, turns out that they'd all been on a European tour together and when the senator's daughter was abducted. Elizabeth was taken too." he said, watching as the look of shock blossom on his daughter's face. "They were in an art museum together and Lizzie wandered off when Joyce wasn't looking. She swore she'd only looked away for a couple of minutes while the guide explained a painting but that was enough. They started looking for her almost immediately and when word got out that the senator's daughter had also gone missing, every security guard in the museum got involved. In the end the only thing they had to show for their efforts was a lone witness seeing two people tossing two children into the back of a van."

"What happened?! Why didn't you call me?!" Sam asked quickly, sounding angry that this story had been kept from her for so long.

"You were an Academy cadet. What could you have done that dozens of investigators and hundreds of police officers couldn't?" he asked as calmly as possible. "There was nothing you could've done and telling you about it would've only distracted you from your project."

It looked difficult but his daughter managed to accept the objective truth, such as it was, but he knew the next bit would be the really hard part.

"The information the investigators had managed to dig up before I got there pointed to an international slaver ring called 'The Black Abyss' that operated in every major country worldwide. They apparently had something of a reputation for accepting custom requests from repeat clients and doing whatever it took to make sure those clients were satisfied." His disgust was clear in his voice.

"What do you mean 'custom requests'?" Sam asked, clearly not completely understanding its meaning or context.

"Most times when slavers do business, they buy and sell based on ethnicity, age or gender. Basically they deal in hardware with only the bare minimum conditioning to the software. It is a common enough practice to let the 'clients' handle the conditioning of the 'merchandise' for the most part." He was feeling filthy just explaining the details. "In the case of 'The Black Abyss', though, they cater to the buyers that prefer to have all the work done for them. They want the slave conditioned both mentally and physically precisely to suit their needs so that they're ready to 'serve' the moment they're purchased. Everything from torture to surgery to brainwashing is used to sculpt the people they abduct into whatever their clients want."

"What'd be the point in surgery?" Jack asked, obviously thinking that it'd be easier to find a person who naturally looked a certain way rather than alter someone else.

"Let's… let's just say that… some clients don't want to wait for little girls to reach physical maturity." He was having to hold back the bile rising in his throat as he spoke the words.

He didn't even need to look at Sam and Jack to know that their faces were twisted in disgust and revulsion. Even though it had happened a little over twenty years ago, it still made him feel sick to his stomach. It still proved to him beyond a reasonable doubt that as bad as the Goa'uld System Lords were, baseline humans were still capable of making them look almost decent by comparison.

"Every hour of every day was spent following up on every lead to find the branch of 'The Black Abyss' that had Lizzie and the senator's daughter. All transportation out of the city, as well as out of the country, was locked down, with the Italian military adding manpower where law enforcement fell short," he said, continuing the story in all its horrid detail. "I didn't get much sleep myself, though that was more because of the nightmares than anything else. As the days went by with little if anything to show for it everyone began to fear the worst.

"Then we hit a lucky break. A plastic surgeon that had shown up on more than one occasion during investigations involving the 'The Black Abyss' had been spotted in Rome. From there all they'd had to do was check all the places that would serve the man's vices or provide him with what he needed to do his work." He remembered the hectic days after the 'doctor' had been seen vividly. "Once we found him, though, we didn't grab him. We figured he was in town to do some… work, so we planted our best tracking device on his vehicle in the most obscure part of his car and followed him via satellite. When it finally came to a stop for longer than ten minutes we set up a large circle around it ten blocks out then closed in on all sides.

"It took time, roughly twenty minutes, but eventually we arrived at a warehouse belonging to an export company. As soon as an airtight perimeter was set up we prepared to ask for an unconditional surrender but before anyone could get a word out someone inside the warehouse screamed. Assuming the worst, we stormed the building but what we found …no one could've predicted it."

"They killed all their captives?" Sam asked, almost unable to ask the question.

"No… the further into the warehouse we went the more bodies of adults we found. An agent from Interpol managed to identify some of them as definitely being members of 'The Black Abyss' slave ring. They'd been… butchered... there's no other way to say it. Heads bludgeoned in, limbs that were either sliced or torn off, bones broken and some with a variety of bullet holes in them. For a moment we'd thought that a rival operation or the local organized crime organizations had decided to handle things themselves. It wasn't until we got to a storage room near the loading docks that we found out what'd really happened."

He honestly didn't mean to pause for dramatic effect but he needed to steel himself for how Jack and Sam would react to the next part of the story.

"When we entered the room we found only one person alive and three others dead on the ground. One had died by a knife through the throat while the other two had been shot to death. One of the ones that'd been shot was a woman and she'd been shot in precisely the same places as the Chinese IOA rep had been," he said, seeing the image of what'd been in that room in his mind's eye. "One shot to each leg, two to each arm and two through the eyes. Before you say it, the shots weren't close, they weren't just about; they were in exactly the same place. It was like the person who killed the slaver back then deliberately chose to recreate what they'd done with the Chinese representative shot for shot."

"You think whoever killed the slavers back then is behind the assassination of representative Xiaoyi?" Sam asked, sounding a bit more understanding with regards to the point of the story. "Who was it?"

"It was Lizzie, Sam. She killed those people." He waited for what he knew was coming.

"WHAT!?" both Sam and Jack shouted at the same time.

He had scarcely believed it himself and he'd seen it with his own eyes.

"That's impossible! A seven year old girl couldn't have killed so many adults by herself!" Sam declared, outright refusing to believe at all.

"I didn't believe it either, Sam, not at first, but you didn't see what I saw. Lizzie was standing in the middle of the room, gun in her hand, smiling with blood covering her from head to toe." He showed her with his face how dead serious he was. "The smile… it wasn't the smile we'd seen on her face when she was playing or when she'd heard a joke. It reminded me of the smile usually reserved for psychotic killers who took great pleasure in their work. As soon as she looked at me, she must've recognized me or at least that's what the doctors thought, because a second later she collapsed to the floor. She wasn't hurt, just unconscious, and so she was evac'd out to the ambulances outside. We continued searching the building and managed to find the other abductees. We were fortunate that they hadn't had them long enough to do anything… irreparable.

"It wasn't until later, when we'd recovered their security tapes, that we'd gotten the entire story," he said as he recalled sitting in warehouse's security room. "About half an hour before we pulled up outside three of the slavers that were in charge of 'moulding' their prospective slaves had gotten to work with the first batch of five. I… I won't traumatize you with the details but their methods were thorough, efficient and completely lacking in any kind of morality. The things they did to those kids… getting Sokar pissed at them and throwing them to him wouldn't be going far enough to see vengeance done.

"Lizzie watched it all happen. They had her chained to the damn wall and she watched it happen." His anger from the past started coming into the present. "Then, like someone switched her emotions off, she stopped shaking or crying entirely. None of the 'experts' could agree on what happened next beyond what we could see on the security footage, but we were all shocked. Somehow she snapped her chains and then began to brutally take apart the slavers like I've only seen a handful of particularly sadistic spec ops agents do. More surprising than that was the fact that she moved faster and hit harder than any seven year old girl should've been able to do, even with months of training. Most of the people who saw the footage excused it off as imitation mixed with the mother of all adrenaline rushes and simple luck, but I didn't.

"Lizzie woke up a couple of hours later but she didn't remember anything about what'd happened. Not her abduction, not what she went through while she was being held captive and definitely not tearing the slavers apart single-handedly. The doctors figured the entire traumatic event must've caused her mind to suppress all memory of it. In the end neither her parents nor I really cared. However I decided to go one step further out of pity for what Lizzie had gone through: I talked with my friend the senator and between the two of us we made sure that what your cousin did in the warehouse got buried. All evidence was 'lost' and every man or woman who'd either seen the video footage or been there when we first found her was 'persuaded' to forget what they saw.

"It should've been enough but both Joyce and Hank were worried that if someone back at home kept bringing up the abduction that it might cause Lizzie to remember. So they packed up and left for Los Angeles as soon as they could, telling only people they thought they could trust where they'd be or what their phone number would be." He looked back into the faces of his daughter and General O'Neill. "Then, a little over ten years ago, something happened that made Joyce and Hank think that she'd suffered a relapse. She started saying that she was a Slayer and that she'd burnt down her high school gym because there'd been vampires inside. Hank immediately had her committed to an asylum out of fear but that turned out to be the wrong move for him. Joyce was outraged that her husband would treat their daughter like she was some kind of psychopath and, while it took a while, she divorced Hank and gained custody of Lizzie. Turned out she was on the right track because a few months later the young woman retracted all her previous statements, claiming that she was just out for attention. Both the psychiatrists and her mother believed her so she was released. The rest you know, Sam."

"So you think that Lizzie might've had a relapse and killed Xiaoyi?" Sam asked, sounding like she was still processing what she'd been told.

"I don't know. Like I said, I only have my own gut instincts and the placement of those shots to go on, but I plan on finding out as soon as I can." He reached over to the anti-eavesdropping device and turned it off. "After Sunnydale turned into a sinkhole Lizzie got in touch with both of us and gave us her contact information. I plan to call once I can find a phone that can't be monitored. If that's not possible, I'll head overseas to her home in Scotland to speak with her directly. If nothing else it'll put my mind at ease."

"You really think all the phones are tapped? Isn't that a little paranoid?" Jack asked, sounding like it was a bit of a stretch that his phone would be bugged.

"Jack, this is the Pentagon. After what happened on nine eleven and the 'war on terror', I would be surprised if all three of us weren't under some kind of surveillance," he replied, reminding his fellow general that these were suspicious times they were living in. "Now that we've just had the second most secretive facility wiped off the planet and five VIPs assassinated in a variety of ways… I expect a lot of ethically questionable precautions are going to get rubber stamped 'approved'."

He could tell that Jack and Sam wanted to deny this but at the same time their years in the military made that hard since they knew how most of the people in charge would react to the current situation.

Someone was attacking them and the longer things went without a definite face to put to the acts, the more fearful and desperate things would become.

Things were going to get messy.

_**Athena's POV, Two Days Later**_

_**Farrow-Marshall Aeronautics R&amp;D Facility, Supposedly Abandoned**_

_**Northern Tip of the Rocky Mountains, British Columbia, Canada**_

"So what's the news from the 'enemy camp', Mister Smith?" she asked her bodyguard, who'd she had sent for a little information gathering two days ago.

"It is as you anticipated, Mistress Athena," Smith replied without a single change in his facial expression. "All five of the member nations of the IOA whose representative was killed are exerting considerable pressure on the American's Homeworld Security and the SGC to find the perpetrators. At the same time they are doubling the usual security detail on all high profile VIPs and increasing scrutiny of all new arrivals to their countries."

"Excellent. This will strain relations as they each begin to suspect their 'allies' of being the ones responsible while at the same time hampering their own ability to move." She gave a maliciously happy smile. "When the final act begins they'll be so tangled up in their 'security measures' that they will not be able to respond quickly enough, resulting in massive losses on all sides. I do so love it when a plan starts coming together."

A bit of a clichéd statement and one from a famous American show, but it just so perfectly summed up her mood at the moment she just couldn't help herself.

From the moment it had been confirmed that Ethan Rayne had succeeded in transforming five of his former foes into the fictional beings they'd been dressed up as she'd begun planning. Planning to make all of the wonderful technologies and weapons of the fictional worlds into reality. Planning to lay the foundation of an army that would see her rise to supreme power. Planning for the day when the Goa'uld System Lords would once again rise to supreme dominance in the galaxy, never to fall again to the likes of the SGC or the treacherous Jaffa.

Indeed, when she was not dealing with the unavoidable work of running a corporate empire, things she just couldn't or wouldn't delegate to others, she was planning how best to make her dreams come true. Unlike her fallen kin among the Goa'uld, she would not substitute painstaking planning for unbridled arrogance and would ensure that everything was taken into account. It had been a somewhat humbling experience but, when she'd taken all the actions of her kin as well as herself into account since the Tauri began using their stargate again, she was forced to admit some uncomfortable truths. The dominant truth being that their defeat had been as much due to their own overconfidence as it was the formidable forces of the Tauri and their allies. They had ruled the galaxy for so long without any true opposition that they'd ceased to consider it possible that they could be thrown down, much less by those they considered their slaves. Their confidence had only gotten worse when the Asgard's weakness had been exposed by Anubis, along with the partially ascended being's acquisition of Ancient technology.

Was it any wonder that weaknesses in their defenses were found and exploited?

Thus when she'd begun her planning she'd made sure that every detail was accounted for and every threat analyzed so that it could be dealt with quickly as well as efficiently.

Phase one of her plan had simply been to gather the necessary resources and manpower in order to replicate the technological advances she'd acquired the plans to as quickly as possible without attracting unwanted attention. That had been easy enough thanks to her new 'agents' aiding her in either eliminating or blackmailing the C. of the companies that would be best able to help her achieve her objectives. Once they had been brought under her control, she had been splitting her efforts between filtering select pieces of technology into the civilian sector and producing what she needed for her long term goals.

Phase two of her plan had been to acquire certain unique sources of technology from Area Fifty One, test out some of the more useful pieces of newly acquired technology and lastly to strike the first blow against her hated foes. By destroying their primary research facility for non-terrestrial technology, she had cost them much information and resources as well as depriving them of a location from which they could analyze whatever bits and pieces of her new tech they acquired through battle. While they could theoretically rebuild and get a new selection of scientists to do the work, it'd take time and it'd provide her with an opportunity to send a spy or two in to their midst. It also had the benefit of directing their attentions elsewhere allowing her to speed up her timetable a bit so all in all it was quite beneficial.

The assassinations were phase three of her plan, with the goal of increasing global pressure on Earth's sole defense against off world threats. Homeworld Security and the SGC were the two dominant means that the Tauri had to counter her plans, both before the final phase as well as afterwards. By inducing the other nations of the world to come down on them, to scrutinize their efforts in order to ensure that everything was done to bring the perpetrators to 'justice', their reaction times would be slowed as well as hindered in other ways. Their countermeasures would also help facilitate her plans centered on phase six of her plan, since their forces would be spread out significantly making them all the more vulnerable.

However before that could happen, she needed to turn up on global tension just one more notch in order to make certain that the powder keg was truly prepped to blow.

For now, though, she had other matters that required her attention that were just as important to the future three phases of her plans as what'd been done so far.

"What of our new 'clients'?" she asked with a cautious optimism. "Were they pleased with the 'samples'?"

"Quite pleased. It took some persuasion to get them to abide by your timetable but they eventually saw the light," Smith replied in his usual professional manner. "It may be necessary to send a representative weekly to keep any… malcontents… under control."

"Then see to it that appropriate representatives are assigned to each client," she ordered, taking his answer into account when making her decision. "Make sure that they can make suitably compelling 'arguments' should our buyers forget who is in the superior position."

"Of course, Mistress." Smith said with a nod of his head.

She was about to say more when a knock at the door interrupted her. "Come."

She was pleased to see Wesker enter and she hoped he brought with him good news.

"It is good to see you again, Wesker," she said with a polite smile. "Were you successful in your mission?"

"Unfortunately no, Mistress. At your request I conducted an exhaustive search for the man Ethan Rayne." Wesker said with a grain of apology in his voice. "Using all the means at my disposal I attempted to find him and heeded your permission to use extreme methods if I deemed them necessary. However none of the leads I procured, nor sources I applied pressure to, were able to provide me with the information needed to apprehend him. All but one of his possible hiding places were unoccupied and had not been used in some time. The only one that was occupied had an old man of seventy years living inside. Using the DNA sample and the device you provided I attempted to ascertain if the old man was Rayne in disguise but the device conclusively said he was not. I attempted interrogation however all evidence indicated that the old man was mentally unbalanced and quite possibly senile, making it unlikely that I would be able to get any useful information out of him. I therefore left since there was nothing to be gained from remaining or killing him."

"Unfortunate. I believe this is the first time you have failed me, Wesker," she said, letting her displeasure filter into her words. "Fortunately for you it is not a failure that I am inclined to punish you for. My reason for reacquiring Mister Rayne's services was to add even more technological might to what I already possess. While being deprived of this additional firepower is disappointing, it is, at the end of the day, of little consequence. All it means is that no one will be able to duplicate what I've done or send back all that I've gained."

Indeed, without Ethan Rayne there would be no other chaos mage capable of undoing what he'd done or allowing others to bring superior weaponry to this reality to use against her.

"I believe it is time to set things in motion for phase five." She got up from her chair and moved towards the doorway. "Follow me."

Leaving her office, she followed a path that took her fifteen minutes and two floors to see the end of.

Doctor Emil Beckett.

Cyber-warfare division.

Entering the room without so much as a knock on the door, she found a great many recognizable objects, all from the databases found in the gurneys, but the man at the center of the room was her objective.

"Doctor Beckett. I trust you're enjoying your efforts at recreating the database's contents?" she asked the grey haired man.

"Quite, Mistress. The things I've learned since we found the database are astonishing!" Beckett replied with a polite smile on his face. "I can safely say that I am most likely the unquestioned expert of computer and network technology of the planet Earth!"

"Then my next task for you will most likely be child's play for you." she said with a grin that boded much to those with the eyes to see.

Fortunately there was no need for Emil Beckett to be good at mind reading.

_**Scooby Holding Room, Buffy's POV**_

Dreams.

They used to be great things for the most part, despite the odd nightmare but that had been before her Awakening.

When she'd been Called to be the Slayer, her dreams had taken a distinct slant towards being more nightmarish than a place where her desired future could be experienced freely. Prophetic visions were only one of the causes since they showed her horrors she would soon have to overcome in order to save lives. The other contributing factor to her nightmares were the memories she had of the many battles she'd fought and the failures that were hers to take responsibility for. She'd only been a teenager when she'd been Called as the Slayer and, thanks to Fate as well as the Watcher's Council, she'd been forced to face horrors no one that age should have to face. Horrors such as that left their imprint on the mind and while some could be worn away with good times, others endured no matter how much time went by.

It had been difficult at first.

For the first few years the pressure of her Calling it pressed down on her shoulders like an ever-present weight and the more scars it left on her, the harder she fought to find reasons to keep on living. She partied, spent time with her friends and cherished whatever love she could find whether it be from family, friends or boyfriends. All of them eased her suffering as the one girl in all of the world to one degree or another, but it never left her entirely for it waited just within the range of her senses like a circling predator.

As she got older she became… what was the word people used? Desensitized? Yeah, that was it. She became desensitized to the violence and the death being the Slayer exposed her to every night. It took something truly horrible to upset her these days but the acts she was forced to commit in order to keep both pain as well as death from her friends introduced her to new heights of trauma.

Whenever she slept now, the faces of those she'd slain and the way in which she had killed them ran repeatedly in her head like some kind of highlight reel. However it soon evolved into her victims exacting retribution upon her using the same weapon she'd used to harm them. Usually it ended with Xander and the others being killed bit by bit while Dawn stood at attention by Mayfield's side, emotionlessly watching.

However over the last two days flashes of something… different began to pop up randomly amidst the usual terrible things her nightmares chose to dump on her. Jingling chains, children suffering, battered bodies and other things that made no sense to her. Somehow, though, these new additions heightened the emotional turmoil that she went through during her nightmares, causing her to wake up like someone had shoved a cattle prod up her ass. If she'd been capable of it anymore she'd almost certainly have woken up in a sweat but since she couldn't, all she'd done was sit up fast breathing hard for a good three to five minutes. The others had done what they could the few times they'd been around for one of her abrupt wake ups but, despite their attempts to comfort her, the nightmares didn't fade nor did the new additions.

She knew that technically her body, such as it was, didn't require rest as much as it used to but her mind did and, unless she found some way to simmer down her dreams, she doubted she'd get much sleep. How long before the lack of slumber wound up affecting her behavior? How long before she just snapped!?

_We need these collars off and we need them off SOON! _

Even if it was true that no one else could produce the necessary nutrient slurry needed to keep the biological components of the Scoobie gang in one piece, it'd be better to die free, pinning Mayfield to the wall, then live giving those bastards the PTB reason after reason to send them to a hell dimension. However none of them or their costume personalities were surgeons, nor did they have the necessary stuff to cut the pain givers out of them without risking death. No one was that desperate to get loose because all of them believed that if they waited long enough a better and safer opportunity would present itself to them.

_Makes me wonder if we should just accept the fact that there WON'T be a better time and just take our chances,_ she thought as she looked up at Giles and Willow. _I don't mind waiting for better chances but I'm not stupid enough to keep believing when it's looking more and more like there won't be._

She knew what the others would likely say if she voiced this train of thought.

They'd try to reassure her, say not to give up hope, and convince her that things hadn't gotten so bad that they needed to go all Jack the Ripper on each other.

They didn't realize that by the time things did get that bad they'd have nowhere to go because they'd either be the most wanted people on the planet or Mayfield will have come up an even worse way to keep them obedient.

Or even worse one or all of them will finally give up and throw in with the whole 'if you cannot beat'em join'em' idea.

She'd kill herself before she'd let herself think like that.

And… she might kill the others before they condemned themselves to a life of bloody servitude.

For their own good, of course.

They'd thank her when they reached the hereafter, even if they went straight to hell.

_**Giles' POV**_

"Any luck?" he asked after making sure that his external speakers were turned off.

"No. I can tell where the implant is but I can't access it," Cortana replied through the helmet's internal speakers. "Whoever designed it made it so that it only activated when a specific signal is sent to it and blocked any other form of interaction. Without knowing what type of signal it is or what type of wavelength it's on, there's no way to know how to block it."

"What about blanket blocking all incoming signals?" he asked, going for the logical alternative. "If we don't know which one to block, we block all of them."

"I wouldn't be able to keep it up indefinitely and it would require significant power from the armor to broadcast a jamming signal powerful enough to block everything," she replied, sounding dismissive of the idea. "Plus it'd make it easy for her to find us. All she'd need to do is look for a broadcast dead zone that's out of the ordinary. With the resources at her disposal, it wouldn't be hard to do it from orbit via satellite."

"And the second we ceased the jamming she could hit the kill switch on us both." he said, finishing that line of thought.

_We're running out of ideas. Cortana can sense the location of the implants once I get close enough to Buffy or one of the others but it's the same deal._

Looking at each of the young people that had been his charges for so long, he tried to think of what possibilities they were considering with regards to securing their freedom.

For Willow he surmised that she would either attempt to use what little magic potential she still retained to defuse the implant or use her prosthetic body's hacking abilities to reprogram the implant. He doubted though that Mayfield'd be so foolish so as not to take the abilities of the people involved into account when she had the implants designed. From what he'd seen of the woman, she was quite thorough with her planning and made sure she had the better hand if things ever got tense. Odds were good that the implants were either so basic that there was nothing to reprogram in the first place or they were advanced enough to have hair trigger countermeasures in place. Whatever the case was, Willow didn't look to be overly optimistic or even like she might be onto something, so that meant the purple haired young woman was probably in the same boat as him.

Xander, he believed, was attempting to use the non-sentient artificial intelligence known as S.E.C.O.N.D that lived in his nanosuit to come up with a solution. They had only briefly discussed the abilities each of them possessed, but one of the abilities Xander'd described was how his suit had managed, after collecting several samples of alien DNA, to turn an enemy's bio-weapon against them. If it was capable of doing something so complex, it might be possible to repurpose the nano-machines to break down and destroy the implant. The fact that the young man hadn't said anything yet and to this very day continued to try and communicate with the A.I probably meant that either the repurposing hadn't even begun or was taking a long time to do. He was inclined to think the latter because, even though he was no scientist, he knew from his potions studies that devising an antidote took time. The more complex the poison or curse, the more time it took to find the right combination of ingredients to cure the victim without doing further harm. He knew not how long it'd be before a nano-machine cure to their predicament was created but he hoped it'd happen soon because already he could see signs of terminal wear and tear happening to the minds of the children of his heart.

Buffy's nightmares were getting worse and, while he might not know the specifics of the imagery that had her waking up with a look of fear on her face, he noticed it just the same. The amount of time that she slept was growing shorter and shorter with something happening on the last… assassination to cause her slumber to become sharply shorter still. All through her time as the Slayer Buffy had been completely opposed to the idea of taking human life and only made exceptions when taking the human enemy alive was impossible. Nevertheless, those lives weighed on her each time they were snuffed out and efforts had been made by more than one member of the Council to ensure that they never had to make such choices again.

To be forced to kill so many humans, humans who represented no threat to humankind, no doubt chipped away at her soul with every life taken.

If too much was chipped away… he didn't even want to think about it.

Willow seemed to be faring a little better but she was not escaping the effects of their actions completely. While Willow, to his knowledge, had the lowest kill count of the lot of them, he knew that some blood was on her hands and that the former redhead was responsible for espionage as well as the planting of false evidence against innocent people. It was only natural for a person to be affected by the fact that their actions resulted in the defamation, slandering and in some cases incarceration of innocent people. He had no proof but he heavily suspected that in at least a few cases, her actions had been the cause of complete financial ruin and that meant substantial loss of jobs at the very least. Given how keen of intellect Willow was, he had little doubt that she had a firm grasp of the consequences of her actions from the direct to the indirect along with everything in between. Seeing as how she trusted facts more than anything else, each one indicating the level of damage she'd done must've been like a particularly sharp stone being thrown at her by a significantly strong person.

A person could only take being stoned for so long before it changed how they saw themselves and how they saw the world around them.

In Xander's case, the weight of his actions in relation to Mayfield's orders was visible but being held at bay by the young man's unwavering loyalty to his friends, along with the hope that they'd get out of the mess they're in. It was one of the young man's most endearing traits: he was supremely loyal to those he considered friends and it'd take something of greater or equal strength in comparison to that loyalty to cause him to turn his back on those he called friend. However his greatest strength was also his greatest weakest weakness because it caused him to take actions from which there could be no going back. In his long years with the young man, he'd seen Xander willing to take on morally gray tasks for no other reason than to keep the hands of his friends as clean as possible. However in some cases in order to accomplish the mission, he'd been forced to commit acts that neither Willow nor Buffy would ever be willing to allow if they'd been present. Willfully compromising your morality put a person on a very slippery slope, with every decision putting a person further and further from whom they'd been, causing them to become someone different.

Depending on HOW different Xander would become at the end of this horrible situation, his friends might view him as a stranger they no longer 'knew'.

As for Dawn… it was impossible to tell if the youngest Summers was even still inside her body, never mind aware of what was going on around her. He prayed that she was in the dark because, if that was not the case, then the poor young woman must be going through hell not being in control of her 'body' while it did terrible things. Considering the fact that Buffy's younger sister was primarily in the research division of the Council and had little recent experience with frontline situations, the things that Mayfield must've had her do… dear lord.

_The woman will suffer a thousand deaths if I have anything to say about it! _he thought angrily for a few moments before calming his mind. _However regaining our freedom must take priority before that can happen._

"I'm open to ideas." he said, taking the chance that the AI might have a workable solution.

"The only one I can think of is to completely disable her transmission capabilities somehow. A facility wide EMP would short out everything, including the trigger mechanism she uses to activate the leashes on each of us," Cortana said, putting forth a possibility. "So long as she doesn't have it shielded against EMPs or a secondary trigger close by but outside the effective range of the EMP, it should work. Additionally scans show that all of you have protection against EMPs to varying degrees, ensuring that while not completely free to move, you should still have a shot. Then all we'd need to do would be to kill Mayfield before Dawn can intervene. Given the number of long range options we have at our disposal as well as numbers, it's unlikely that Dawn would be able to stop all of us."

"That would depend on what weapons were on hand at the time," he said after a moment of contemplation. "I can think of at least six weapons in the armory that would allow her to disable or kill all of us before we could finish off Mayfield."

"Close quarters then. After the EMP goes off, you and Buffy as the two strongest and swiftest of the group will block or restrain Dawn while Xander and Willow attack Mayfield." Cortana said countering the flaw he'd pointed out. "Between the two of you, I doubt even a terminator would be able to make it to the woman in time."

"Buffy would be hesitant to harm her sister, even if she was… possessed by her directives," he said, feeling the point needed to be laid out. "There's also the possibility of Dawn being damaged by the EMP."

"She doesn't need to hurt Dawn. Just keep her from going to the aid of Mayfield." Cortana said, sounding certain her plan would work. "As for the EMP damaging Dawn… I didn't say this was a perfect solution."

"I'll consider it," he said as he filed away the possibility for later consideration. "You start working on how we could fire off your EMP without tipping them off before we're ready… or doing unnecessary harm to Dawn."

It wasn't a perfect plan.

However it was the only workable one aside from Xander's that they had and to be honest it was far more realistic then waiting for a non-sentient AI to come up with a nano-weapon capable of freeing them.

Only time would tell which plan would deliver the six of them to freedom.

_**Athens, Greece**_

_**Early Morning, A Moderately Expensive Apartment**_

"Ah!" she gasped, sitting upright in her bed after being shocked out of her dreams.

She was no stranger to dreams or even dreams such as the one she just had, but she had not experienced such a strong one in many, many years. The times of strength ebbed and flowed throughout the years of her life, so she was not unprepared for particularly strong dreams this year but the one she had experienced minutes ago was different.

Usually the dreams she had at times of strength were of great changes about to happen in the world from technological changes to medicinal changes. It proved useful to her when it came to making the right investments or getting out of a specific area in order to avoid dying because of a terrorist attack. At worst it let her know when a government was about to rattle its war saber extra hard so she could move someplace else.

This time was different.

The vision started out as a normal day in the city, just like the hundreds she'd had before, but then a dark shadow fell over her from high above. She looked up in the dream and saw dozens of flying metal constructs coasting through the sky on the light winds of the day but, while for a moment she felt awe like the people around her, it soon changed to fear. It was then that bits of light began to rain down on the city obliterating whatever they hit, killing scores of people in the process. With her fear shared by others, her dream self ran in an effort to get away from the airborne threat as quickly as their feet or vehicles could carry them.

However before any of them got more than five blocks away, the sound of hundreds of marching feet began to thump through the air, causing some runners to stop to listen. None needed to wait long to learn the source of the found because a moment later a row of armored men and women came around the corner. Armed with weapons both familiar and not, they at first merely had their tools of death resting on their shoulders but moments after they saw the civilians that changed. Like well-oiled machines they brought their weapons to bear on the innocents then opened fire, killing dozens in their first volley. There was no attempt at giving surrender an option, no hesitation at slaying the defenseless, just a systematic killing of every civilian within eyesight.

_They can't be bargained with. They can't be reasoned with._

She'd recognized the voice instantly as belonging to her father and, while she'd felt a bit of comfort in her dreams, she also felt dread.

More often than not when he spoke in her dreams, it did not bode well for the world.

Her dream then flashed to a new location where she could see soldiers that were familiar to her were fighting a pitched battle against a large army in order to protect a city's perimeter. The attacking army was moving forward at a leisurely pace, as though they had nothing to fear from the defending force's weapons. Instead they displayed the same efficiency as the others but this time they employed energy weapons that tore through the defenders' cover like tissue paper. The protective armor of said defenders fared little better than their cover, leaving gaping holes where flesh and bone once existed, causing many warriors to flee rather than fight.

Some remained though to fight to the bitter end.

_They don't feel pity, or remorse, or fear._

Another flash and the location of her dream self changed once more to a battlefield away from the city to a valley peppered with the usual vegetation. This time things were different as tanks, APCs and legions of infantry advanced forward across the green expanse towards an enemy different than the ones she'd seen before. There were two types that she could see: one half were large and clad in futuristic looking armor that made them seem more like robots while the other half wore a form fitting bodysuit with plates of reflective armor in vital areas. The former were armed with weapons that seemed too large for any man or woman to carry but the robot-like giants wielded them against the infantry with great ease. The latter carried only blades with them, blades that arced with electricity from one end to the other, but it was enough to allow them to deflect every shot their foes sent at them.

When the two sides halved the distance between them, the blade wielders ran forth with inhuman speed and were within the ranks of the infantry before any defense could be raised. Screams soon filled the air as the blades cut through flesh and metal with equal ease, bringing down three infantrymen with every swing. Even the armored vehicles were not spared as the blade masters cut them asunder as though they were made of cardboard rather than strong steel.

What infantrymen were spared the blade quickly fell victim to the bullet and the bomb and the metal clad fists of the robotic giants that appeared to be protected by a field of energy that only manifested when struck. The infantrymen and the tanks still functional sent volley after volley at them and while the shells from the tank succeeded in staggering them, the bullets did nothing. A few did fall as the battle progressed but it was happening too slowly to make a difference. For every one of them that fell to the ground, a hundred infantrymen fell dead to the ground and at such a rate the robotic giants would be the ones left standing at the end alongside their blade master allies.

_And she absolutely will not stop, ever, until all fall under her rule._

Another flash and she stood in the middle of an area that was being used to construct a large stone structure, block by chiseled block. The workers, while not filthy, had clearly only been given the bare minimum care in order to ensure that they could continue working on what they were constructing but not enough to make them combat capable. It was what existed a short distance away from the construction site though that had most of her attention and caused her to narrow her eyes in anger. A dozen or two meters from the construction site there was a platform with a pale skirt covering the bottom of it. On that skirt there was the image of an owl surrounded by a circle, with both being white in color. This was a symbol she knew well from her time in Athens and had always felt a personal connection to even though she wasn't the one who originally came up with it.

Atop that platform, right in the center, was an intimidating looking throne upon which a woman with blonde hair sat, clad in clothes implying supreme importance as well as power. On either side of this woman stood the robotic giant, the blade masters, the warriors who began the slaughter at the beginning of her dream and two others cloaked in shadow that she could make out no details of at all. One was obviously female and clad in normal clothing while the other one was a tall man clad in some kind of full body suit that made the male look rather intimidating.

Before her dream self could see more, though, a hand came down on her right shoulder and spun her around to see a young woman in her early twenties clad in a black leather outfit. With dirty blonde hair flowing smoothly down like a waterfall from the top of her head the young woman then used the same hand to grab her by the throat and lift her a good foot off the ground. Reflexively she clawed at the hand that was depriving her of air but it was no good. What strength she possessed was insufficient to pry the fingers with the strength of steel from around her throat and as time went on the grip TIGHTENED.

"You are a threat against subject Athena Prime. You will now be terminated," the young woman declared before a neon blue light manifested from within her eyes. "Resistance is futile."

With that the young woman twisted her hand in a very specific way and, with the sound of a bone snapping, she woke up in her bedroom.

This dream was completely different from those that she'd had before during her times of power and it disturbed her greatly. In the past ten years she'd had dreams of the advancements that had been made in secret and the first steps a group of honorable soldiers took into the galaxy but this was on an entirely different scale. The weapons wielded by the enemies of earth were not staff or snake. Their transports were not golden pyramids carved with strange symbols. The only resemblance to the earlier enemies was the presence of a great darkness in the head of the woman on the throne on the platform.

_Times have changed and mankind might not be able to deal with this threat unaided,_ she thought as she got out of her bed and began to put some clothes on. _Looks like I'll need to look up Adrian or whatever name my brother is hiding under this year._

She just hoped that he wouldn't get into one of his 'moods' where he'd actually be in favor of seeing her dream come to pass.

The idiot always did love a good fight.


	6. The End of a Beginning

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the copyrighted material contained herein. They are the property of their respective creators and/or associated companies. I make no profit off of this whatsoever and I have no intention of changing this in the future. I write because it's fun and because there are those who enjoy reading my stories. Therefore it would be greatly appreciated if no lawsuits were sent my way or any criminal charges laid. I can promise that whatever you get from me it won't cover even a tenth of your legal fees.

_**Briefing Room, Twelve Days Later, Xander's POV**_

_Another group mission? Well this can't be good,_ he thought as he walked into a room he'd dubbed 'The Hall of Woes' due to what was inevitably born from the room.

All five members of the group were assembled and, as usual, none of them were in a very good mood or looking forward to another layer of blood being added to their hands. Nevertheless, none of them were willing to risk being given another example of why defying Mayfield was a bad idea, especially given there was no way of knowing when the woman would decide on a lethal example. As much as it pissed all of them off to do so, their only option was to bide their time and wait for the opportunity they all hoped was coming their way. S.E.C.O.N.D was making progress from what he could make out of its statements but whatever solution it was putting together was only at seventy-three percent. At the rate it was going, it'd be at least another seventeen days before it hit one hundred percent and that wasn't even taking account understanding what the non-sentient artificial intelligence's solution would actually do once implemented.

He wasn't sure his friends could last that long.

The wear and tear was beginning to show on the faces of his friends, or voice in Giles' case, seeing as how he rarely took off the helmet of his Mjolnir armor these days. They were enduring as best they could and, in his opinion, their willpower was the match of any seasoned soldier or warrior on the planet Earth. Too bad even the greatest of walls or largest of mountains crumbled eventually, so the longer things went on, the sooner the pillar that was their inner strength toppled. He wasn't an expert on the human mind but his estimation of the minds of his friends put the day of the 'final straw' being roughly no more than three months away. When that day arrived it'd be suicide bomber time on Mayfield's skanky ass, with everyone throwing caution to the wind because none of them would care about the consequences any longer.

Hell would be preferable to continued servitude under Mayfield.

Watching as the flat screen TV snapped on, he just hoped that his own personal hell didn't turn out to be an eternity serving a Mayfield look-a-like.

Shuddering did not do what he was feeling justice.

"Glad to see you all again," Mayfield said, sounding like they were old friends. "I hope you've made use of the entertainment room I provided. After all there's no reason why your time in my 'employ' has to be completely unpleasant."

"Might need a few new controllers for the game system," he mentioned offhand with a little sarcasm. "Kinda broke it by accident."

"I'll see to it that replacements are purchased as well as a couple of spares," Mayfield said, ignoring the sarcasm entirely. "Now on to business. Your mission this time around will be to seize an Indian radar station hub that monitors all air traffic for a specific region of the country. Nothing enters the country or leaves it without this radar station seeing it."

"So what exactly are we to do with it once we have it?" he asked, figuring the sooner they got all the relevant mission data the sooner, the tv would switch off.

"You will shut it down completely and prevent the local military from retaking it until you're signaled to leave." Mayfield replied, turning to look at him directly. "Naturally lethal force is authorized but if you should come up with a means to retain your hold that does not require killing anyone, I'll permit it. You've done so well on your missions up until now, I feel like giving you a little operational leeway."

"Thank you," he said while making a face from beneath the nanosuit's mask that would piss most people off.

"Don't suppose you'd like to tell us WHY we have to take and hold the station?" Buffy asked, not hiding her true feelings more than absolutely necessary.

Hopefully it'd be enough to keep Mayfield away from the 'button of great pain'.

"The purpose of the mission is that I've made a deal with a citizen of India to have some 'merchandise' delivered. It's something quite illegal that I would rather not fall into the hands of the Indian government." Mayfield replied with a polite smile. "By seizing and shutting down the radar station hub you will deprive the government of its primary means of detecting my delivery aircraft, allowing it to enter and exit Indian airspace without them knowing. Once the transaction is complete and the package delivered, my transport will leave, allowing you to leave as well."

"Why don't you use the cloaking tech you obviously have?" Willow asked in an effort to take some of the heat off of Buffy.

"Sadly my current model cloaking device can only render something the size of the Pelican invisible for the time being." Mayfield replied conversationally. "The amount of merchandise I plan delivering would require two trips in a Pelican rather than just one, therefore it is simply more efficient to deliver it in a larger aircraft and utilize another way to keep it from prying eyes."

That made sense.

It was also something of a relief that Mayfield's tech hadn't grown too powerful just yet. It meant that she'd be beatable by the armies of the world if it came to a head on fight. True, they'd probably need some help with some of the more impressive stuff but, by his reckoning, the Scooby gang would either be free or suicidally ripping Mayfield to pieces by then. So basically it'd be simple enough to fix in either case.

Of course he had little doubt that Mayfield would keep trying to get her cloaking device to work on bigger and bigger things, but hopefully her eggheads were experiencing a major science block on that front.

"You will have one hour to gather the necessary information and equipment for the mission," Mayfield said with one final smile. "I'd recommend packing a little heavier than usual. The mission will likely be a couple of hours long."

With that the television shut down, leaving the Scoobies to their own devices for the next hour before they'd have to report to the hanger to hop on their transportation method of the day. Looking at the others, he just nodded before heading for the door, with the armory being his overall destination. He had a few ideas in mind for what he'd take on the mission and, contrary to what some might think, it'd be heavy on the shock and awe. In his mind the only way to minimize casualties was to make the local military too afraid to approach this radar station by air or ground. This would hold them back since they'd likely expend every resource they had that wouldn't damage the station itself before they'd say something like 'screw it. It can always be rebuilt' and bring in the heavy artillery.

When that happened he figured they'd likely be prepping for extraction so they could use up whatever ammo they had left to provide an opening for their transport to come pick them up.

Then it'd be over.

Hopefully with the bare minimum of casualties on the opposing side.

Hopefully.

_**Forty-Five Minutes Later, Willow's POV**_

_Okay, let's go through the checklist. Seburo M5 plus three clips? Check. SPAS-12 shotgun with one full shell holder belt around the waist and another full one going from left hip to opposite shoulder? Check. _ _Seburo C26A assault rifle with one full clip in the rifle and three more in my pack? Check. RPG-7 with seven rockets? Check. Well, that's everything._

She'd tried to choose weapons that would be of most use in a siege scenario while also not the sort of weapons that'd result in unnecessary casualties. While it was true that the shotgun wasn't very precise, most of the other guns were and it was her intent to use the RPG-7 more to destroy any vehicles that would be brought to bear against the Scoobies than for wanton slaughter. It was her hope that by destroying their vehicles it'd be enough to scare them off since not a lot of people were stupid enough to try going up against explosive projectiles without decent cover to hide behind. She also helped that given the recognizable appearance of the weapon would be enough to cause the people she aimed it at to get clear of the point of impact.

While she'd considered grabbing more, she didn't want to hamper her mobility any since, even with the five of them, they'd have to stay on their toes to maintain their grip on the entire radar station. She supposed that if the systems were compatible enough Cortana could hop into the systems, freeing up Giles a bit more, but she wasn't going to bank on it. Depending on how old the station was and when the last time was that they upgraded the systems, it was possible that there was not near enough memory for the artificial intelligence to even get her digital foot into it. As such they'd just have to hope that once they got everything shut down that they'd be able to keep anyone from penetrating deep enough to turn it back on.

Fixing her gray and black combat uniform to make sure everything fit properly, she then walked out of the armory to meet up with the others who'd gone ahead of her to the hangar. According to the mission data they'd been given, they'd be using the Pelican to get to India and then they'd be dropped off just outside of earshot of the radar station. They'd then approach on foot keeping to cover the entire way in order to avoid being seen and, once they were within a certain distance, they'd split up to infiltrate the building. With luck they'd be able to cut communications so that when they did reveal themselves to the people manning the station, it'd be too late for them to do anything about it. If they had cell phones it'd take them time to dial anything and, with the physical abilities that the Scoobies now possessed, no human would be able to get one up on them.

The entire shut down process of the systems in the station wouldn't take long but, according to the mission data, they were on a set schedule if Mayfield wanted to get her aircraft into the country undetected. They all had their assigned tasks and they were chosen in order to make everything happen as quickly and as efficiently as possible in order to keep things on track. Her job was to interface with whatever was run by computers, slice through the security programs and shut those systems down at the same time as the others shut down their systems. Giles and Xander would handle the systems not operated by computer while Buffy and Dawn kept an eye out for the first people to respond to the shutdown. Once the entire station was shut down, four of them would cover all angles of approach while one stayed at the main controls for the radar station just in case someone made it inside. Naturally all the anti-vehicle weaponry would be either near a window or on the roof since it'd do more harm than good to fire it inside.

According to the mission data, the entire operation from the moment they got off the Pelican to the moment they pulled out would be roughly eight hours, give or take a couple of minutes. While the mission data didn't say where the aircraft carrying the 'merchandise' would be taking off from, with the time frame given it'd have to be in one of the neighboring countries. Any further away wouldn't be practical and she didn't think that Mayfield would risk exposing a larger aircraft born from the knowledge she'd obtained from them for a simple business transaction. It was far more likely that she'd use conventional terrestrial aircraft to transport the merchandise in order to keep from giving her buyers a grasp of just what she had.

After all it was a fact that people that dealt in illegal and highly dangerous goods weren't the biggest supporters of morality and tended to get a tad greedy.

If Mayfield showed too much, her buyers might just decide to rob the delivery people blind and disappear.

Of course the buyers would likely find out within a week what a bad idea that was when the C.E.O hunted them down and ended them in the quite the terrible manner.

_Hopefully these 'buyers' have enough business sense to keep their ambitions in check, or at least know when they're in over their head,_ she thought as she exited the main building before heading towards the hanger. _Then again, Mayfield seems smart enough to pick her clients carefully so maybe she knows that she can trust her buyers to mind their manners._

Her mind wandered as she contemplated what the merchandise could be and hoped that it wasn't something that'd tip the balance of power someplace. Whether it be terrorists, government officials or simple criminals, if any got their hands on the advanced tech and weapons Mayfield possessed they'd gain a decided advantage over their enemies. If criminals were the buyers then many innocents would die during the commission of their crimes, since they'd likely be so drunk with their newfound strength that it would breed recklessness in them. If it was government officials it could mean anything from a potential coup de ta in the making or the Indian government becoming bold enough to seize territory from their neighbors. If terrorists were the buyers… it would be a worst case scenario since such people, by their very nature, targeted places where a high body count would be the result of their actions. It was the belief of such people that the only way to make others listen to them was violence and that fear would force the world to conform to their wishes.

The idea of Halo, Crysis, Metal Gear, Ghost in the Shell and Terminator technology in the hands of such people… 'horrified' did not do how she felt justice.

Mayfield was only SLIGHTLY better because she was a businesswoman and it wasn't good business to kill the people that'd be buying your products.

Then again, maybe the woman planned on killing a couple of handfuls of people and then telling the world 'buy my products or this happens to you. Buy A LOT', but that was just too insane to think about too much.

Entering the hanger, she could see the others waiting for her outside the Pelican with their various chosen weapons either on their persons or likely on board the aircraft. Like her they'd chosen their weapons based on what they expected to face when they arrived at their destination and what it'd take to maintain possession of the station until they were permitted to leave. She could make out a few of the weapons and thankfully they weren't the type to cause excess death unless the wielder got pretty sloppy with them or intended to get a high body count from the beginning.

Neither possibility was going to happen though because she knew her friends didn't like what they were being forced to do any more than she did.

They just had to hang on a little while longer.

She just hoped that, when they tried to come back over to the side of the 'White Hats', that they'd understand why they hadn't just killed themselves.

It wouldn't have done any good.

All that would've happened is that the world would be facing a force completely unfriendly with no way to oppose them immediately. Oh, she was sure that given enough time they'd be able to reverse engineer Mayfield's soldiers and the tech they'd be using, but that could take months. Of course that was assuming that the blonde businesswoman didn't have some kind of failsafe in the tech to ensure that there was nothing left to study. If she'd been running the show, she'd definitely incorporate something that'd fry every important circuit and melt at least two thirds of the hardware in the process. After all, the longer the White Hats were in the dark about how Mayfield's tech worked, the more she'd be able to do without any significant interference.

However, by doing what they could to stay alive and wait for an opportune time to escape, they'd be able to bring their collective knowledge to the good guys, hopefully in time to help them stop Mayfield in her tracks. So while they would indeed have to atone for the lives they had taken or hurt, their current method of handling their predicament was indeed the correct one.

Better that they have at least five augmented humans on the side of the light than none.

"You have everything you need, Wills?" Xander asked from his position on the rear hatch.

"Yep. Should be enough to discourage any new arrivals to the radar station from wearing out their welcome," she replied with a half-smile on her face.

"Then let's get moving," Giles said in the tone that had to belong to the Master Chief side of him.

With that the group got on board the Pelican and the last person in slapped the button to close the rear hatch. Once they were all in their seats the pilots went through their preflight checklists, upon the completion of which they took the aircraft into the air, leveling out at cruising altitude before accelerating towards their destination. It'd take a couple of hours and, while she didn't know what the others would do, she'd spend it reviewing all the mission data and then creating strategies for as many different situations as she could come up with in the time she had. Major Motoko Kusanagi had plenty of experience coming up with tactics and strategy for situations like this and she'd played a few military strategy games online, so she had some experience of her own.

With luck it'd allow her to counter any opposing force that came at them without hurting them unnecessarily or killing them.

She just hoped that nothing unexpected happened or else in true Scooby fashion things would probably go pear shaped in a spectacular manner.

_**Hours Later, The Skies Over India's Northern Area, Buffy's POV**_

_I hope to GOD that this goes better than our last mission,_ she thought as she waited for the Pelican to land. _I… I don't want to kill anyone._

It had been with this desire in mind that she'd chosen a loadout of weapons that could easily be used to injure and would require precision shooting in order to kill someone. She'd chosen a Ruger Mk. II rimfire tranquilizer pistol and had miraculously managed to get a reasonable supply of darts. This was contrary to what she'd expected from her 'boss' since Mayfield didn't care one bit about the moral qualms the Scoobies had about killing people. However she wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth so she took fifty darts and put them into magazines that'd slide right into the pistol. She also selected a Heckler &amp; Koch Mark 23 SOCOM handgun with five thirteen round .45 ACP magazines. She had a P90 hanging from a strap over her right shoulder with four plastic magazines held in custom belt holders at her waist to make it easy for her to yank them out and slap them into place. She intended to use these mostly to tear up the ground in front of any incoming troops to force them behind cover. Even if they had protective gear on, the impact of the rounds would be enough to sting like a sonuvabitch and like most people unnecessary pain tended to be avoided.

She also… reluctantly… had brought her high frequency sword along with a combat knife based on the same technology.

Ever since her assassination mission she'd been assaulted with a mix of revulsion and something she didn't want to believe might be defined as eager anticipation. 'Jackie' had been tap dancing on her nerves verbally off and on since about her fifth night of bad dreams, making her already bad mood even worse. At first it'd just been the usual nitpicking about her life and how she refused to admit certain 'facts' about herself, but then the bitch had started focusing on the assassination mission, started talking about how nicely she'd cut everything and everyone up, and gave her a few pointers on how to make it even more 'entertaining' next time. Then, of course, she started making a case for how she'd actually enjoyed the killing but didn't want to admit it, saying that she was getting to know her 'true self'.

Naturally she'd rejected every argument and reaffirmed her status as a protector of the human race, NOT some repressed psycho killer with a thing for cutting people into portions.

However, when she'd entered the armory hours ago and seen both blades hanging there, she'd experienced a flutter of something in the pit of her stomach. The only thing she'd been able to compare it to was the times in the past when they'd been facing a particularly nasty demon and been given the perfect weapon with which to kill it with. For a brief moment she'd even pictured parting flesh with the blades before revulsion surged, causing her to banish the image from her mind. She'd immediately gone over to the handgun and pistol section of the room to pick something else but, before she could leave the room, her eyes once more had drifted over to the high frequency blades. She hadn't wanted to take them with her but her mind considered some valid non-killing methods of using them that she felt confident that she could restrict herself to. Things like cutting through the armor of military vehicles or protecting the others by deflecting incoming fire were perfectly acceptable uses for the weapons that wouldn't harm anyone. With the speed and strength she had in her body, she could disrupt any attempts to present an organized effort to retake the facility by destroying their weapons and vehicles. So long as she didn't ignite any fuel tanks when she destroyed the vehicles, she could very well come out of this with a zero person kill count.

So with only a little reluctance she'd taken both the sword and the combat knife, strapping them to her waist as she'd done before.

Now… now they were minutes from being dropped off and she'd begun to wonder if she'd made the right choice after all.

"We're coming up on the drop off point," came the voice of the pilot from the cockpit. "Get ready to disembark."

She got to her feet and checked both her firearms to make sure that there was a full clip in both the SOCOM and the Ruger. Once she was satisfied she fell in behind the others as they waited for the rear hatch to open up while at the same time firming up her resolve to make things happen the way she wanted them to happen. They would accomplish the mission but she would not take a single life.

A moment later she felt the light thump of the Pelican touching down, the hatch lowered to the ground and they were on the move. At a pace just above a jog they began to navigate through the wilderness they'd been dropped into the middle of, making sure to stay away from strong sources of light that would make them visible to eyes, both organic and electronic. It was nighttime so darkness helped them quite a bit but that didn't mean that they could just waltz to their destination without a care in the world. There was no way to be sure how many eyes would be looking in their direction at any given time and being spotted was something that Mayfield would not like. True, they could've used those invisibility devices or thermo-optic camouflage but, for some reason known only to Mayfield, the use had been vetoed at the last minute. No one had been given an explanation, nor had they been in possession of enough time, so they'd left without the devices that would've been quite handy.

Drawing on their experiences in covert movement, both what they'd learned on their own as well as what they'd inherited from the latest casting of the Halloween spell, they made their way towards the radar station. While being fleet of foot they also did what they could to minimize the sounds of their own footfalls so that they did not give away their presence to any within earshot. Their covert methods of approaching the station might have slowed them down a bit but not noticeably enough to throw off the schedule they'd been given. She didn't engage what the Raiden part of her called 'ninja run' since that'd have thrown off electrical discharges, which would've made her noticeable to someone a significant distance away. Considering the soft ground they were on, their footprints would be unmistakably odd but hopefully anyone who found them wouldn't be able to make much of them in the end.

It took twenty minutes at a decent clip to reach the edge of the forested area but thankfully whoever had designed the place hadn't thought to remove all the vegetation outside of the fence for a good hundred yards, so they had cover to work with. Now they just needed to figure a way inside without being spotted and AGAIN she wished that they'd been allowed to bring artificial cloaking devices with them since doing it without them would be a cast iron bitch.

"Alright. It'll be easier for us to get inside if we split up like we did with Area Fifty-One and penetrate the perimeter from multiple vectors," Giles said while he took in the exterior of the station visible from their present position. "I'll take the North, Xander takes the West, Willow from the South leaving the east for Dawn and Buffy. I'll send a click through the comm units so we can all go at the same time. Understood?"

"Sure thing," she replied, liking the fact that her surrogate father figure would be taking the lead.

Despite all the time that'd passed and how she'd grown from being a transfer student to Sunnydale High School, she still saw the Brit more or less the same way. Plus she believed that now more than ever he'd make the right strategic decisions that'd make everything turn out more or less alright.

Once the others gave their consent to the plan they split up, using the maps available to either their memories or the HUDs to help them get into their designated positions. As she moved, though, she couldn't help but glance once at the thing her little sister had become and wonder about the chances of there being something of the young woman she remembered inside. It wasn't the first time she'd wondered but it had been awhile since her last contemplation of this question. Not once since they'd gotten back in control of their own bodies had Dawn shown even the slightest hint of her old self no matter what they did to try and bring it out. When she'd been told by Mayfield about the 'directives', she had been forced to realize that the reason for the lack of emotion, the lack of Dawnness, was due to them probably and her little sister wouldn't come back until they were gone.

At least that was what she'd chosen to think.

Seeing the look that was devoid of emotion on Dawn's face, she wanted more than ever to do whatever it took to get her back to her old self. However she was no computer geek and she didn't have the necessary tech to hack into the CPU in her skull to delete the directives, so she'd have to wait until Willow came up with a plan. She knew that the others were coming up with plans to get them out, so she'd wait for her orders to be given so she could play her part in those plans.

Until then she'd… she'd do her parts in their missions and like the others do whatever they could to keep the body count of their opponents to a minimum.

It was all she could do for the time being.

_**Just Inside the Radar Station, Ten Minutes Later, Giles' POV**_

"You know, if it wasn't for the fact that I'm used to security five hundred years more advanced, I'd think we were walking into a trap." Cortana said through the helmet's internal speakers.

"Fortunately there's nothing on the motion tracker to confirm that possibility," he said as he proceeded quickly yet cautiously towards the nav point on his HUD.

With a BR55HB SR Battle Rifle aimed forward and ready, he was heading to a set of system controls that weren't hooked up to the computer network of the facility. It'd be up to Buffy and Willow to take the main control room while Dawn, Xander and he took care of the rest. He'd noticed his former Slayer taking a tranq pistol with her so taking the main control room was ideal for her and she'd be adequate back up for the former redhead when the latter began to hack the station's network. According to some scenarios Cortana had run, they should have the entire radar station hub under their control and shut down within the next twenty-five minutes. After all, while the security programs and forces set up to protect this place might be alright against criminals and low ranking soldiers, he highly doubted they could even slow down five highly skilled enhanced warriors.

Just as he was about to turn another corner a red contact marker showed up on the HUD. Looking about quickly he found a janitor's closet a short distance away and with only a little noise got inside without completely obliterating the locking mechanism. Watching the contact marker approach, he began to consider what he'd have to do about the approaching person since just letting him or her walk on by wasn't an option. While it was inevitable that the locals would figure out that this place had been seized, limiting the amount of intel the response team had on WHO took it over would give him and the others a decided advantage. That meant that they had to keep any of the people who were working here under lock and key.

The obvious option would be to render whoever it was unconscious, tie them up and then place them here in this janitor's closet. The only possible problem with that would be the person getting loose in the middle of the firefight to come. While he'd like to think that any police officers or soldiers who responded to the situation would be trained well enough to check their targets before opening fire, there was no way to be certain. Given that the tactics the 'Scooby Gang' would be using emphasized making their opponents too afraid to venture in close, that very same fear might cause them to shoot without thinking.

That could lead to needless civilian casualties and that could not be permitted.

Waiting until the contact marker went by the door and was a good bit down the hallway, he then opened the door and began to stealthily close in on it. Once he had a clear line of sight he could tell that the red contact was in fact a security guard, no doubt going about his nightly rounds, so he placed an extra bit of effort in keeping his movements silent. Fortunately John had conducted many covert operations so, by drawing on those memories, he was able to close the distance without difficulty. Then all it took was a swift but controlled blow to the back of the head to render the guard unconscious. When that was done he dragged the unconscious body back to the janitor's closet, tied the man up using a roll of duct tape and then closed the door behind him before resuming his original course. Bringing his Battle Rifle back up, he picked up the pace a little to ensure that his little detour didn't complicate the overall timetable too much.

It was just a little past eleven minutes later before he reached the controls he'd be responsible for and then waited for the others to signal that they too were in position. With one eye on the motion tracker of the HUD while the other scanned his surroundings through the crosshairs of his rifle, he waited. While he'd do what he could to capture anyone he saw, he could not ignore the possibility that he wouldn't be given the chance to do so. There weren't a great many places where his large frame could be successfully concealed for ambush purposes, meaning the only alternative would be to shoot anyone who came along, injuring them long enough to knock them out then restrain them.

Hopefully it wouldn't come to that.

Hopefully Buffy would be the one to tranq the majority of the station employees, thus keeping the body count where they all wanted it to stay.

"All operatives, this is the Major," Willow said over the comm systems of the Mjolnir armor. "Main control room has been taken. Sound off on status."

"This is the Chief. I am in position."

"Prophet is in position." Xander said, confirming that he was ready.

"Raiden and Cameron in position." Buffy said, sounding a little strained for a moment.

"Then let's get this show on the road." Willow said with sounds of things scraping on the other end. "I will be interfacing with the computer network shortly. I will signal each of you when you need to do your part. Follow the procedures in the mission data and everything'll be fine."

After a series of affirmatives from the others the communications connection was dropped and he waited for the signal to begin his part of the procedure. It wasn't difficult since the instructions included in the mission data were fairly simplistic, making it clear they'd been written knowing the reader had no experience with this kind of technology. So while he waited he reviewed the steps, he'd have to take one by one in the correct order and sort of practiced with the controls in front of him without actually doing anything. This got old pretty fast but fortunately he didn't have to wait long before a signal came through his system. Turning a knob here, flipping a switch there and pressing buttons in a specific order until all the lights on the control board in front of him turned red. The light changed according to the instructions and confirmed that he'd done what he was supposed to do, so he moved to where he'd be guarding the station from Indian forces.

Going to the north side of the radar station, he knelt down on the floor and began to set out his 'surprises' for the Indian forces when they arrived. First up was the M392 Designated Marksman Rifle for mid-to-long range targets and, according to John's memories, it was quite effective at long range but wasn't quite good at close range. He also brought his old favorite from the last mission, the M41 Surface-to-Surface Rocket Medium Anti-Vehicle/Assault Weapon, since like the others he hoped that the presence of explosives would cause their innocent adversaries to keep their distance. He had eight rockets available and that hopefully would be enough to see him through the mission when combined with what the others had brought with them. Nevertheless, he'd felt like erring on the side of caution so he'd brought a grenade belt with a compliment of flashbangs and sonic grenades numbering five each. Both were non-lethal and would give him the time he needed to get in close and defeat the opposing troops without taking their lives in the process. The audio and visual filters of his armor would keep him from feeling the effects of the grenades, giving him a decided advantage.

Peeking out the window, he switched on the night vision function of his helmet and assessed the terrain to get an idea of who had the advantage. From what he could see, aside from some tall grass and some bushes there, was little in the way of cover for the Indian forces, making things quite defendable. However it worked both ways since they had a clear line of sight to his position and, with no trees or substantial vegetation in the way, it would be possible to bring in ground vehicles. While this would offer them some protection from his weapons, his M41 would be enough to take them out but there would in all likelihood be people in them.

This would defeat his desire to keep the body count at zero for this mission at least as far as he was concerned.

_The best I will be able to do is selectively use the rockets to cause the vehicles to up end in a way that would prevent others from advancing on the station. This will give them cover to hide behind but if I am skillful enough, I may just be able to keep that cover far enough from the building so that it will not do them any good._

He knew that if they had heavy weapons of their own, his concrete cover would be blown away in a couple of shots. Still, there was the chance that they'd want to avoid damaging the radar station in order to keep it in one piece so they could turn it back on, but he wasn't banking on it. It was entirely possible that they were willing to accept a certain amount of collateral damage to the station so long as they got it back MOSTLY in one piece. So long as they were able to reclaim it and get it operational within a reasonable timeframe, that would most likely be good enough for them, so he'd have to be ready to relocate further into the facility since even his Mjolnir armor's shields would be knocked down if he just stood out in the open and took incoming fire nonstop.

Fortunately neither Rupert Giles nor John One One Seven were stupid enough to stand still and soak up fire, advanced armor defenses or not.

His armor's shields would regenerate given enough time and there was enough of a gap between current firearms and UNSC weaponry that it'd take a long time for anything to punch through the armor itself. So all in all he didn't foresee any problems in holding the radar station if all that was sent against them was infantry and land-based vehicles, with weaponry chosen for their limited damage potential.

"You do realize that if we hold this place TOO long they might just decide to bomb the hell out of it, right?" Cortana asked through the helmet's internal speakers.

"It won't come to that," he said, not believing that any government, military or police force would be so foolish as that.

Then again the whole shock and awe tactics that they were planning on using might just be enough to make them do something stupid.

He'd have to be ready for that.

_**Homeworld Security, Same Time, General Jack O'Neill's POV**_

KNOCK!KNOCK!

"Come in," he said as he continued to review the latest intel report from the feelers he'd put out to find something to appease the replacement IOAs and SecDef.

Two weeks, of course, wasn't nearly enough time to get anything substantial but that wouldn't stop the suits and the brass from breathing down his neck in the next few days. Everyone with even the slightest bit of clout was up in arms over what'd happened in the last month and they wanted something solid SOON or else. Of course the 'or else' could be anything from losing his position as head of Homeworld Security to being saddled with some NID 'help' to make up for his 'shortcomings'. Personally he'd prefer to lose this posting entirely than have some suit spooks looking over his shoulder for six months while they 'evaluated' his competence.

Looking up as the door opened, he was pleasantly surprised to see both Sam and her Dad Jacob but neither of them looked to be in the best of spirits, albeit for different reasons he imagined. Still, it'd likely be better than what he was doing at the moment so he set the report aside in order to give his longtime friends his undivided attention.

"Hey guys! So what's new with you?" he asked with his usual smile as he leaned back in his chair.

"Not much, sir. Analysis of the Groom Lake Crater has only confirmed the presence of black hole related phenomena and after effects." Sam replied, sounding frustrated by the lack of progress. "We're still at a bit of a loss as to how the black hole could've been generated in the first place or why it disappeared so soon afterwards. However we did get a bit of good luck when canvassing the nearest town."

With a quick reach into her jacket pocket, his blonde former XO pulled out two photographs and handed one to her father while he got the remaining one. Looking at the pic, he couldn't make a lot out but it looked like some kind of aircraft at a pretty decent altitude but it was impossible to tell what direction based the other objects in the photograph. Whatever it was though it looked like it was snapped halfway into invisibility but what was visible made it clear that the aircraft wasn't normal but at the same time didn't look entirely alien either. He saw a lot of shapes that made up the thing looked like parts of air force aircraft but that didn't necessarily mean that someone from Earth made it. He'd seen enough spaceships and aircraft with similar design components off world that made him think some things were universally constant.

"Based on the time stamp of the photographs and the reported direction the camera had been aimed, we believe this aircraft was what the people who destroyed Area Fifty-One used to get away." Carter explained, adding context to the photo. "As you can tell there is proof that it possessed some kind of cloaking device but it's unlike anything we've come across before. Whoever or whatever was behind the attack, sir, most definitely has access to advanced tech that we've never seen before."

"Nothing even close?" he asked, wanting to know just how bad things were.

"No sir. I've compared what we have to every known form of tech, ranging from Goa'uld to Asgard to Ancient, but nothing comes even remotely close." she replied with a shake of her head.

"Any ideas for how to deal with it?" he asked, hoping she at least had an idea for piercing the cloak or protecting their installations against whatever eradicated Groom Lake.

"Not the device they used at Groom Lake but I think I can make some upgrades to our orbital defense satellite network to pick up the atmospheric distortions left behind by the aircraft." She sounded as discouraged as he was at the moment. "They should give us some warning next time they approach on of our bases. Steps are also being taken to counter the wireless jammers that kept Area Fifty-One from getting out any details. With luck it'll give us an edge next time."

"Let's hope it does," he said, not wanting to explain another hole in the ground to the Joint Chiefs or the President of the USA.

"Anything on your end, sir?" she asked, hoping he had something as well.

"Nothing concrete. I've put everyone I've got trying to track down any terrestrial manufacturers or eggheads that could've equipped the assassins but so far nothing." Frustration was clear in his voice. "No body armor should've been able to take the hits the woman in England did without breaking bones or drawing blood. McKay is still working on the Easter Egg the killer at Strom's place left for us but I think it's driving him up the wall."

"You mean he can't break it?" she asked, sounding surprised at the news.

"Worse. He's sure he knows how it works but it's got some adaptive something or other that's pissing him off big time," he replied, remembering his last phone call with the Canadian genius. "Zero arrogance and maximum frustration if you get my meaning."

Indeed to hear a man that was usually arrogance personified talking like he was just about ready to pull out his hair and toss things around did not bode well.

"Wow." Sam said with lingering surprise.

"That's what I said. Anyway, the Russians have been a little stingy with the info on the attack that took out Chekov but what they have sent over confirms that some kind of directed energy weapon took him out. What's surprised them quite a bit was how powerful it was. According to them it had enough juice to punch through SIX Abrams tanks in ONE shot without much difficulty."

The wide eyes and slacked jaws of the Carters was almost enough to bring a smile to his face.

"As for what happened in Washington, the eggheads confirmed your theory about a high frequency blade. It took some serious peering down microscopes and tests I can't remember the names of but they confirmed it. Nothing found within two hundred yards of the kill zone to indicate a generator was close enough to give it power, though."

The idea that somewhere out there was someone capable of cutting through just about anything, even armor plating, like a hot knife through warm butter did not sit well with him AT ALL. It essentially meant that every supposedly secure vault, bunker or facility could now get a brand new door put in whenever and where ever they wanted. Considering the fact that the SGC's quarantine procedures relied heavily on the mother of all doors to be sealed shut, he worried about the possibilities greatly.

"I'll… I'll look into seeing if we can come up with some kind of energy barriers to act as backups." Sam said, sounding like she was a bit worried.

Considering what they'd both been through when they were with SG-1 and afterwards, that meant a lot.

"So what do you have, Jacob?" he asked, deciding to change the subject a bit.

"Well, I've spent most of the last two weeks trying to track down Lizzie and what I've been able to find out isn't good," Jacob replied, sounding like he didn't have high hopes for the future. "I called her contact number. Nothing. I flew to the latest address I had for her. The place was occupied but not by Lizzie. When I asked where she was or when she'd be back I got a cover story that reeked even more than your 'deep space radar telemetry analysis' cover story for the SGC."

"You think the person was hiding something?" Sam asked, sounding concerned at the news.

"I'd bet my house on it. At first I didn't think anything of it," Jacob replied, turning to his daughter. "We haven't exactly been to many family barbeques the last couple of years so it made sense that the person house sitting wouldn't recognize me and be a little tight lipped. I probably would've forgotten about the whole thing except I found myself getting tailed from my hotel to the airport the next day."

"Tailed? By who?" he asked, surprised a bit at the curveball that'd been tossed into the story.

"Don't know but it wasn't government funded. Too sloppy for them," Jacob replied sounding sure of his opinion. "I couldn't get a good look at who was driving but I was definitely being followed. As soon as I got on the plane I put a call in to some of my contacts in the area to see if anything odd had happened in the last six months."

"And?" Sam asked sounding a bit impatient.

"A little under six months ago someone set up tanks full of a highly potent knockout gas all around one of the trendier nightclubs in Rome." Jacob replied, looking at each member of his audience in turn. "The stuff was so good that you didn't need to breath it in for it to affect you because it could be absorbed right through the skin. It blanketed the entire area knocking everyone out cold for hours. The funny thing was that nothing and no one was taken as far as the police were concerned after canvassing the area the first few times around. However when they compared the people found on the scene with the security cameras from the nightclub they found out that two people were unaccounted for: Lizzie and her little sister, Dawn."

"They were kidnapped? Both of them!?" Sam exclaimed as her feelings for her cousins came forth.

"Yep. The police found the tanks the gas had come from and started asking around to all the local black market dealers while asking the local military to double check their own stock to see if anything was missing." Jacob replied with a nod of his head. "Funny thing was neither possible source had ever heard of the stuff and the tanks didn't quite match up to what they did have in stock."

"So either the stuff is home brewed or was privately created by some company." Sam theorized based on what her father had laid out.

"Exactly. Not the sort of thing you can easily get a hold of either way," Jacob said, sharing his daughter's sentiment. "It got me thinking that there might be more to Lizze and Dawn's abduction than originally thought. No run of the mill kidnappers would've been able to get something like this, even through black market channels. It started to smell to me like a mercenary group and a successful one at that, so I asked a friend who owes me one in the CIA to find out if any merc groups were in or around Rome at the time of the abductions."

"They find anything?" he asked, not liking where things were going.

"They did. A mercenary group known as the 'Blue Scorpions' was confirmed as having been at an airfield just on the other side of Italy's borders a few hours prior to the abductions." Jacob replied, turning towards the head of Homeworld Security. "My friend also confirmed that they'd have the connections to get a hold of the knockout gas as well. The only thing they couldn't tell me was who the Scorpions were working for at the time. None of their usual clients would have any interest in two civilians, even if they were related to me and Sam."

"Still, if your hunch about who was behind the assassination of the Chinese Rep, then whoever ordered her to do that is the one who hired the mercs to grab her." he pointed out, making connections in his mind.

"That's still a long ways from a complete picture," Sam said, shaking her head in incomprehension. "It still leaves the question of WHY someone would kidnap a civilian and HOW they'd managed to turn her into an assassin equipped with a high frequency blade. Anyone looking to keep their operations secret would have a much better chance by choosing someone from within their own organization than a random civilian."

"Unless it wasn't random." he said as a thought occurred to him.

"What do you mean, Jack?" Jacob asked, sounding like he hadn't figured it out yet.

"Well, think about it: in the last two months two targets connected to the SGC have been hit and hit hard. To me that says someone has it in for the SGC." he replied, laying out his thoughts, such as they were. "The fact that the same people behind the attacks also just happened to kidnap two people related to a high ranking member of the SGC makes me think it could be a personal grudge."

"That'd mean someone from the Trust or the Lucian Alliance," Sam said, working through the facts in her head. "Both of them have suffered serious defeats because of the SGC and both have access to the necessary technology. It also wouldn't be difficult for them to get access to Earth if they needed to especially if it turns out that they're working together."

"We'd better put eyes on all the members of the SGC that've earned a rep with the Trust and the Alliance," he said, already making a list of resources that were at his disposal to do just that. "Just in case."

"Good idea. Even if the people behind all this don't kidnap anyone else, if they really do have an axe to grind with the SGC and SG-1 personally then assassinations aren't out of the question." Sam said, sounding distinctly worried. "I'll pull double shifts to figure out a defense against these weapons and a way of capturing the assassins. If Lizzie really has been turned into a killer, we'll get her back and fix whatever they've done to her."

"Let's hope it's not too late for either," he said, unable to keep his pessimism from being voiced.

_**India Radar Station Hub, Western Side, Xander's POV**_

_Shouldn't be long now,_ he thought as he checked the magazine of his Jackal fully automatic shotgun before slapping it back in. _The station has been offline for a full fifteen minutes. There's got to be a response team of some kind heading our way._

Picking up his MK.60 MOD 0, he checked it as well since he wanted to make sure his medium range machine gun was ready to go. Between his shotgun and his machine gun, he was covered at most of the expected ranges, especially since there were quite a few trees on his side of the station about a hundred yards away. Nanovision would let him see them, even through the trees, since it gave him both thermal and night vision capabilities, but with the trees as cover he would have to wait until they exited out into the open. That meant he'd have to cut down or deter any oncoming threat before it could cross the hundred yard distance, or else things'd shift to CQC, potentially tying him up long enough for others to enter the building.

There weren't any windows on the western side of the building so he'd been forced to move one of the cars belonging to the employees into a position six feet from the western wall of the building. He'd picked the one that had the hardiest construction and then made sure that all of the gasoline was drained in order to make sure there wouldn't be any explosions caused by incoming fire to worry about. True, there weren't any armor plated vehicles in the parking lot, that'd have been too convenient, but he'd take what he could get given the situation. While the nanosuit would let him take some punishment, even the armor mode would fail under sustained fire, plus the mission mandate kept him from utilizing Prophet's usual method of operation. Usually the man was a stealth fighter, the whole 'pick off the patrol one by one without anyone seeing a thing' routine rather than someone who fought an enemy head on. However, doing this would increase the odds of someone getting inside while he was elsewhere and that could not be permitted for the mission to succeed.

He was about to try something else when he spotted something suspicious out of the corner of his visor, causing him to immediately go on alert. Bringing up his MK, he didn't point it anywhere yet but rather kept it ready to fire at a moment's notice.

**NANOVISION ENGAGED**

Instantly his night vision engaged, allowing him to see into the trees as easily as if it were high noon and he could see signs of movement. There were people there but he couldn't see them clearly enough for him to know who they were or what their day job was. Could be military. Could be police. Personally he was putting his money on the former since the latter weren't exactly trained to come at a place by the forest. Usually they'd just set up shop in the parking lot or something, so since that wasn't the case he upped his game to a higher level than would be necessary against police officers.

Watching as the power bar for the nanovision continued to dwindle, he was only peripherally glad that the lights on the exterior of the building provided some illumination. It wouldn't be as good as he'd prefer it but it would allow him to recharge the nanosuit's capacitors so he could use the nanovision again.

Bringing his machine gun up to his eye so he could aim, he waited until his eyes spotted a form the size of an arm before opening up with seven point six two millimeter AP rounds in bursts. He focused his efforts on near misses to let both of them know that they'd been targeted and hopefully make them rethink their approach angle. Wood was splintered, leaves were torn asunder and he could see visible signs of people scrambling for cover but not retreating more than a few feet back the way they came. Either they were made of some pretty stern stuff or they'd figured out he was aiming to miss, so they figured they didn't have to pull back. While not what he wanted stationary was better than advancing at this point, so he'd take it.

Gunfire from other parts of the area let him know that what he was facing was only one arm of a multi-pronged assault by the military from all sides. A smart move since doing so would allow them to, in theory, overwhelm an occupying force allowing them to retake the radar station hub quickly. Too bad they didn't realize that they were up against five of the deadliest soldiers they were ever likely to come across. He had little doubt that, if he and the others went all out with the intent to eliminate all hostiles, the Indian forces would be wiped out within twenty minutes at the longest. Fortunately for the soldiers the only situation where he and the others would go that far would be if their mission was in critical danger of failing or one of them suffered a serious injury. In his mind the ones most likely to be injured would be Willow or Buffy, since the rest of them were either protected by armor or weren't dependent on organic life support modules to keep on going.

If Willow suffered serious trauma to her prosthetic body or Buffy lost too much of her white blood, the things that kept their biological components alive would fail. He was no expert on what the point of no return was for cybernetic bodies so he had no clue how much damage they could rack up before death became a certainty. In such a situation, then, the only course of action was to treat them like they were human and go with what'd be fatal for a normal flesh and blood human.

So if any of them got hurt, he'd go from deterrence and non-lethal force to all out elimination of those that threatened the people he cared about.

All of them were guilty of a great many things since they'd been changed but he himself was prepared to take on the burden of blood and lives all by himself. For all the changes he'd been through and all he'd grown, he could honestly say that he still valued their lives above his own. If the price for keeping some sins off of them was piling them on his own shoulders, then it was a cost he'd gladly foot the bill for without hesitation.

Their happiness, their safety, was all that really mattered to him on a personal level when you didn't take the whole fate of the world thing into account.

Laying down another five bursts of fire from his weapon, he placed his shots a few inches closer than he had before lucking out and managing to inflict some flesh wounds. This got a better reaction out of Indian forces as they backed up even further while firing bursts of their own back at his position, with most impacting on his improvised cover.

When his nanovision failed due to lack of power, he fired one long burst from his MK before ducking back behind cover. Watching as the energy meter slowly begin to refill up, he thought about what more he could do to make the opposing forces back up even further. The best game plan he had for keeping the body count low was to make them too afraid to approach, keep them on the defensive, so, by the time they brought enough force to bear to win, they'd be free to pull out. If the Indian forces were allowed to gain any measure of momentum, any measure of progress, then the odds of things devolving into a bloodbath went up. So he would do his utmost to keep his adversaries on their heels for as long as he was able and hoped that the others would do the same.

After all, while he might've been good before the spell and made better by Prophet's donation, even he couldn't hold the enemy at bay on four fronts.

_Maybe I should give them something else to think about besides my good aim. _

**MAXIMUM ARMOR**

Stepping out from behind his vehicle cover, he marched thirty yards forward before taking shots at the approaching forces the second he got a big enough target. As expected the moment he left cover those soldiers with a clear shot at him opened up but, to his minor surprise, the drain on his suit's energy was less than what he'd expected. Major Barnes' memories indicated that the drain should be a little over sixty percent more but he wasn't looking a gift horse in the mouth. It made him last longer and look more impressive with how the bullets bounced off of him but he still felt the hits since each round transferred quite a bit of force despite the armor mode being active. So for those men or women who stayed too long out from cover, he used his MK to force them back behind cover so as to prolong his moment of invincibility as long as he could.

_About five minutes of sustained fire, _he thought as he watched the energy bar on his HUD dwindle even further. _Not bad._

Moving back behind the cover of the vehicle at a casual pace so as not to let on that something was the matter, he crouched out of sight before disengaging armor mode. As he watched the power bar begin to recharge, he peeked slightly up to see what the Indian forces were up to and had to duck back down as the glimpse of a barrel poking out from behind a tree warned him of danger. A good thing too since a second later a bullet passed through the place where his head had been and hit the wall of the station a short distance away.

_Hope this doesn't mean they've figured out my armor mode doesn't last forever, _he thought as he popped up before emptying the rest of his MK's magazine at the approaching soldiers. _Otherwise I'm going to have to raise the bar even higher on what I'm prepared to do._

Removing the spent magazine, he let it drop to the ground before attaching a new one and set things up to allow it to fire once more. Popping up over cover once again, he fired a short burst in order to dissuade his foes from thinking that he'd run out of ammunition. He only had two more magazines for the weapon before he'd have to shift to his shotgun, so he'd now how have to begin rationing his ammo a bit. By his reckoning only forty five minutes had passed since the radar station had successfully been shut down, so that meant he had another seven hours and fifteen minutes to hold this position. While he could always steal the weapons he needed from the Indian forces, that would require that he leave his position, thus opening a hole in the station's perimeter. While it would be temporary, it would still leave a means by which the Indian soldiers could enter the building and potentially blindsiding the others.

_Well I'll cross that bridge when I come to it,_ he thought as he fired off another burst into the trees.

He just hoped things didn't go FUBAR before he got to the proverbial bridge.

_**Athena/Mayfield's Office, Four Hours Later, Athena's POV**_

"How is our reluctant band of 'heroes' doing, Mister Wesker?" she asked, looking at the real time vid-window on her computer screen.

"Thus far they have managed to keep the Indian military from getting closer than one hundred and twenty yards of the radar station hub." Wesker replied with little, if any, emotion. "Casualties have almost entirely been accrued by Agent Cameron, though a small number were the doing of Agent Prophet. As of five minutes ago only nineteen Indian soldiers have been killed while a little over twice that amount have been injured by your operatives."

"Impressive. Given the importance of the radar station hub, I expected the military to send a considerable force to reclaim it." she said with genuine respect for her four 'employees'.

"At present the force attempting to retake the station numbers forty-two, however according to our monitoring programs we have in the Indian military systems they are preparing to deploy three more squads of infantry as well as two gunships." Wesker said, further informing her on the subject. "ETA twenty minutes."

"Well then things are about to get interesting," she said as she interlaced her fingers. "How fares our transaction with Ganesh?"

"He is quite pleased with the weapons he's been shown thus far," Wesker said. "He sounds quite willing to place another order quite soon and will pay whatever price you name."

"Good. A pity that he'll have other concerns soon enough," she said, thinking on what was to come. "I trust the code has been entered."

"It has," Wesker said promptly.

"Good. I expect you to conclude matters shortly and withdraw." Her tone that made it an order, "Things are going to be quite… hectic… there in four hours and I think it would be best if you were not there when things got 'interesting'."

"Understood," Wesker said with a nod of obedience. "It should only take another twenty-five minutes to conclude matters with Ganesh."

"Then I will see you when you return." She terminated the vid-link.

This particular phase of her plan was proceeding quite nicely.

The hole that had been made by her unwilling minions in India's air monitoring system, the sale of 'merchandise', the drawing away of military forces and the impressive battle taking place at the radar station hub… all a part of her plan. True, there had been information delivered to her that had almost made her change things but she'd chosen to let things play out as originally intended. Her projects were coming along nicely so there was no real need to alter the variables any and her review of how things were likely to play out didn't indicate a drastic enough deviation to concern her. It did not make her believe that her foes in the SGC and their off shoot, Homeworld Security, would learn anything that would hasten their awareness of her involvement or where to find her.

All would transpire as she had planned.

Indeed, she had received another set of updates about projects Titan, Fallen Column and Horsemen, informing her that all was proceeding apace and would be finished on the desired date. Project Titan's combat trials were past their initial stage with some rather impressive results despite the fact two of the potential pilots had been killed when concentrated fire was directed at the cockpits by their opponents. It pointed out a clear weakness in the initial design but thankfully they had quite a few methods of fixing the flaw at their disposal and the scientists were already enacting the most effective upgrades to the design. Once they were complete they would be put to the test once more and until the battles ended in a stalemate either due to technology or the skill of the pilots. Fallen Column had completed hardware assembly and was now in the process of installing the necessary software in order for it all to work perfectly. They'd already been designed and put through simulation trials to get all the kinks out but, until they were actually installed and used in real life situations, there would be no way to know for sure.

As for Project Horsemen, the subjects who received the augmentations had fully recovered from the enhancement procedures and were being put through their paces by completing some rather ambitious obstacle courses. Utilizing the technology and weapons that had been made hers, the technicians had made each obstacle course progressively more difficult and lethal. The point was to not only get them to familiarize themselves with their new abilities at an accelerated rate but also weed out the weak while exposing the strong. She had enough subjects that she could afford to lose a few to such tests and competitions, especially since the end result would make the sacrifices well worth it.

Taking it all into account, she couldn't help but be pleased in her present as well as confident in her future.

Still, it wouldn't hurt to perhaps stack the deck a little more in her favor.

After all, recent history was rife with examples of how various System Lords had underestimated the Tauri and their forces, bringing about the end of their reigns either immediately or gradually. While she had indeed done much to cover all her bases, there was the possibility that she somehow was still underestimating them subconsciously. She would need to go one step further in order to ensure that she wasn't defeated like so many others had been before now. She would need an ace up her sleeve and, in taking the history of her people into account, she believed she had the correct concept upon which to build.

They preached to their slaves that they were gods and goddesses.

They taught the Jaffa that as deities, they could not be slain by mortals.

Perhaps it was time to make that more of a reality than it currently was.

_**T-minus Two Hours Forty-Five Minutes to Mission Completion**_

_**Willow's POV**_

_Almost… almost… THERE! System is locked and encryption in place,_ she thought before returning to the waking world and disconnecting herself. _Better get to Buffy and help her out. She won't be able to hold them off for much longer._

It'd been a bit of a risk for her to stay in the control room for as long as she had but the intel provided by the security cameras around the exterior of the building had made it worth it. While all the Scoobies had gotten an enhanced vision option to one degree to another, they couldn't always keep their eyes looking in the right direction with all the bullets flying. Through the cameras she'd been able to give constant surveillance intel to her friends, letting them know what the Indian forces were doing while their attention was diverted elsewhere. It'd saved each of them on more than one occasion and had given them a heads up on the movements of the gunships that'd arrived much to their surprise. None of them thought that the two choppers would be sent in since none of the weapons on aircraft like them were really precision instruments. Worse than that, the assaults by the choppers had nearly been enough to open a hole for the ground troops to penetrate the facility.

If it wasn't for the precision shots by Dawn damaging the choppers enough to make them pull back, thus giving the others the opportunity they needed to push back the infantry, she'd be mixing it up herself right now.

As it was she had been taking a significant risk not guarding the southern side of the building in person but she'd felt it was worth it to use the security cameras to support her friends. The Southern side of the building was thirty feet away from the edge of a cliff that dropped a solid three hundred meters. While she didn't have anything exact on the composition of the rocks all the way down, she didn't think that Indian forces would try entry from that side due to the lack of windows. With this in mind she'd figured it was worth taking the risk but, as of two minutes ago, she'd changed her mind when an explosion rocked the southern side of the building. It'd been all she could do to throw together a quick locking and encryption program but now she was free to intercept the intruders that'd almost certainly gotten into the building. Taking up her Seburo C26A assault rifle, she took one minute to verify that it was ready before making her way towards the door closest to the southern side of the radar station.

Too bad trouble showed up the second she left the main control room as a team of three Indian soldiers came around the corner. Knowing that she wasn't the most well protected of the Scoobies, she tore off one of her RPG rockets and threw it in the direction of the troops. The moment it was within range she snapped off a burst of fire from her assault rifle, detonating the rocket in the midst of the soldiers, killing them instantly.

She didn't like it, not one bit, but she knew that letting those three into the main control room was an unacceptable risk and, given that she did not have impressive body armor to soak up fire, she had no choice but to go on the offensive. Activating her thermo-optical camouflage, she began to do a sweep of the southern side of the building, looking for anyone else that'd managed to get inside. She couldn't let a single one past her if they were going to keep the station under their control for the duration of the mission.

Corridor by corridor she went, peeking in any doors that looked suspiciously like they'd been opened recently while keeping an eye out for more Indian soldiers. Fortunately it wasn't until she reached the hole that'd been blown in the wall that she encountered her next batch of opponents, thus she prayed that, aside from the three she dealt with earlier, these were the only ones inside. As part of her lockdown she'd also included an alarm program that'd alert her if her precautions were breached allowing access to the system. They'd still need at least four people on the job to bring everything online so if she could eliminate even half of that, then they wouldn't be able to bring the station online.

_Personally I hope that the nothing happens but better to be prepared than unprepared,_ she thought as she began slamming the butt of her rifle into the faces of the troops.

Given that they couldn't see her movements, it was all too easy to dance between the military men to render them unconscious. Once they were down she looked around the immediate area and spotted the rope that'd no doubt been used to scale the cliff. Four quick shots with her assault rifle and the ropes were severed, entirely eliminating that avenue of infiltration into the radar station. Deciding to add one more bit of discouragement to things, she took the RPG-7 off her back, loaded a rocket into it and then walked to the edge of the cliff. It didn't take her long to spot the troops at the bottom so, with only a little care, she took aim just to the right of the group before firing. The explosion got their attention and got her message across that this angle of approach was not open or safe by ropes. She could see some being carried away while others hobbled as a result of their wounds, but no fatalities from what she could see.

No immediate ones anyway.

If any of them were injured severely enough that combat medics or hospital doctors couldn't save them, then they'd become casualties that she'd be responsible for until the day she died.

_NO! I'll atone for every life lost!_ _I just need to hold on long enough to break Mayfield's chains! Then it's payback on her and the road to redemption begins._

Her eyes narrowing as her resolve became as hard and as cold as stone, she gave one final look around the bottom of the cliff as well as to either side of the hole in building's wall. When she couldn't spot any other hostiles, she withdrew back into the building and prepared for the next assault to come. She might've scared them off for the time being but all that meant was that they'd come back at her ten times as hard with weapons that they no doubt would believe were capable of keeping her at bay long enough to get people on her cyborg ass. Best guess was that they'd toss grenades or some other kind of explosive her way in bulk and then scramble up the side of the cliff before she could push them back. The problem with that plan was that, without a good idea of where she was, it wouldn't be too hard to keep clear of the frag radius and, when their troops peeked their heads over the top of the cliff, she'd knock them off. Maybe leaving a few of them hanging on the ropes to force their friends to come up after them then bring them down to the ground before making another go. It'd take up time and that'd suit her just fine since the more time the Indian soldiers spent tending to their incapacitated comrades, the less time they'd have to try to take the radar station.

All good in her mind since it'd help to keep the kill count to a minimum.

"This is the Major. Southern front secured. Main control room locked down. Sound off on your status."

"This is the Chief. Northern front is holding." Giles said, sounding only a little pressured.

"This is Prophet. Western front holding but I think they're getting a feel for the nanosuit's abilities." Xander said sounding a little concerned. "Gonna have to up my game to keep them back."

"Do what you have to, Prophet, but ONLY what you have to," she said, reminding him of what they weren't at the same time he reminded of what they were. "If you need support, just say so."

"Acknowledge, Major. I'll keep that in mind," Xander said in a tone that made it clear he understood her hidden message.

"Eastern front holding. Zero enemy units have entered station perimeter." Dawn stated in an emotionless voice that chilled all who heard her words.

"Yeah… we're good here," Buffy said, sounding distracted but not by her little sister's words. "If Prophet needs help I can get to him quick."

"Hold off on that, Raiden," Xander said after some background noise of machine gun fire came over the channel. "Things have gotten tough but they haven't gotten that bad yet. If I need back up I'll yell for it."

"I'll keep an ear out then. Raiden out." Buffy said before breaking her connection.

_So far so good,_ she thought as she took comfort in the fact that nothing had seriously breached the perimeter yet aside from the ones she took out earlier. _I just hope we can keep it up until the mission's over._

It all depended on just how far the Indian military were willing to take things in order to reclaim their radar station hub and how quickly they'd be able to put their plans in motion. With a little luck it'd be more than four hours before they decided to use sheer numbers to overwhelm the Scoobies and retake the station. If assaulted in big enough numbers, she and her friends wouldn't be able to pull their triggers quickly enough to keep them back and once this went close quarters, they could be dog piled while others got the station back online.

_Goddess, please grant us your favor._ She thought in silent prayer while momentarily closing her eyes. _Guide our actions so that we may leave the darkness and find our way back to the light._

They might be too far gone, hands covered with too much innocent blood, but her Goddess was merciful and that gave her all the hope she needed.

_**Vale of Kashmir, Outside of Srinagar District, Staff Sergeant Marcus Reynold's POV**_

_**One Hour and Forty-Five Minutes Later**_

"Alright people listen up!" he said to his squad as he called them to the center of the run down building that was their based of operations for the moment. "Let's review what we know before getting on with the mission."

One by one his squad fell in to form a loose circle in the center of the room until they were all gathered. Looking at them all, he couldn't help but feel confident about the outcome of this mission and it was a confidence born of being through so many shit storms with them while still coming out smelling like roses. They knew each other inside and out, from who preferred which weapon to how each of them would react in a given situation. It was this familiarity that had made them such an effective squad and why the brass had chosen them for this particular mission.

"One week ago a B83 nuclear bomb went missing from a high security armory north of Langley. An investigation into the incident indicated the use of sophisticated tech to circumvent the security systems and neutralize the guards inside. Fortunately one of the people behind the theft got sloppy just before leaving. Forensics found a partial fingerprint that matches up with a known major league arms dealer known as the Crimson Cranium, who has a rep for being able to get his hands on some pretty nasty shit.

"Military intelligence has spent the time since IDing his prints tracking him down and now we think we've found him. The latest reports show that CC is in Srinagar bargaining with a local Indian extremist called Ganesh for the nuke," he explained, evaluating the expressions on the face of his comrades. "If he gets the nuke, intel thinks he'll use it as leverage against Pakistan to force them to drop all claims to their piece of Kashmir to the north, do the usual 'give us what we want or we turn one of your major cities into ash' thing. The problem with that though is that the threat itself might be enough to piss off the leadership of Pakistan into a little aggressive initiative. Make no mistake, people, this could get really messy really fast for everyone. I'm talking lobbing nukes back and forth across the India-Pakistan border messy.

"So our mission is to infiltrate the lovely city you see out the window, get to the storage building Ganesh is using as his local HQ and recover the nuke. The bomb is top priority," he said, emphasizing his words to show that they carried weight. "If we can nab Ganesh and the Crimson Cranium agent in the process, fine, but only after we have bomb under lock and key. Make sure to check your fire once we enter the building. I don't feel like having my atoms spread about the countryside. Now let's MOVE OUT!"

After making sure that their local garb concealed anything that'd give away what they were or where they were from, they left moving at a brisk yet unsuspicious pace towards their destination. All of their weapons were concealable yet still up to the task of taking on the expected forces surrounding as well as within the building. Silencers were on all their weapons in order not to draw the attention of the rest of the neighborhood and to allow them to quietly eliminate potential hostiles one by one. Standing mission parameters made it clear that while some corpses were okay, a bloodbath would not be praised in the slightest upon their return to American soil. Fortunately for the brass back home, he didn't like making an excess body count since in his mind it was a sign of a sloppy operator. A true pro got the job done with as little collateral damage as possible whether that was people or property.

True, that wasn't always possible, but that didn't mean you shouldn't try just the same.

It took a little over half an hour for his team to get to an alleyway across from the storage room but, unless the locals were paranoid or unbelievably insightful, it was unlikely that they'd been spotted thus far. Peering out of the alleyway, he immediately spotted two guards by a door with a third walking casually up the street. Either these guys had absolute faith in their lookouts further out or they didn't think anyone dangerous knew where to find them.

Big mistake.

He gave a series of hand signals to his men outlining how they were going to handle things from here on out. Essentially it'd be the old distract and enter ploy since the guards appeared to have as much discipline as a bunch of redneck hunters hanging out outside the local bar. Miller would circle wide and use a smoke grenade to lure both the door guards and the roving one away from the entrance. Once the hostiles were far enough away from the door the rest of them would make for the door and after confirming that it was safe would enter the building. They'd then locate the bomb, the buyer and the seller in that particular order before securing each in order of priority. Then he'd signal the chopper that was waiting further out to come in to extract the whole lot of them back to an airstrip a couple miles away for the trip back to the USA.

All in all, things shouldn't take much more than thirty minutes to secure everything then a little under an hour after that to get to the airstrip.

Piece of cake!


	7. The Light at the End of the Tunnel

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the copyrighted materials contained herein. They are the rightful property of their respective creators and/or associated companies. I make no profit off of this whatsoever and I have no intention of changing this at any point in the future. I write because it's fun and because there are those who enjoy reading my stories. Therefore I would greatly appreciate it if no legal action were taken against me. I can promise that you won't make even a tenth of your legal fees back from me. I am just that poor.

_**The Indian Radar Station Hub, Twenty-Five Minutes Later, Eastern Side of the Building, **_

_**Buffy's POV**_

_Just five more minutes, JUST FIVE MORE MINUTES, and we can pull out! _she thought to herself as she fired another wounding shot from her SOCOM handgun.

It had been a long couple of hours but the end was finally in sight.

As one they'd worked to keep the Indian military out with a minimum of blood and death, waiting for the moment in which they'd get the signal to withdraw. Four of them had done all they could to keep the body count as low as possible but Dawn… her little sister… had made sure every single one of her shots resulted in a death. She'd done all she could with words to convince the cyborg that was her sister to shoot to wound and nothing more but all she'd gotten was some military mumbo-jumbo about how that'd reduce mission success probability by over twenty percent. Once more she cursed Mayfield for what the bitch had done because, as long as the directives were there, her sister was a slave to them.

She knew the others were working on a plan for making them free once again but it was maddening to know this without any details. She didn't know how far along their plans were or what her role in them would be and, because of that, she had precious little to reassure her soul with as time went by. However her faith in her friends was strong, so she waited and resisted the growing compulsion to say 'to hell with it' and going right after Mayfield, banking on the belief that it'd all be worth it. If things went on too long… she might just go with her option of last resort and sacrifice everything to end the evil that was Mayfield.

Even if that meant cutting through Dawn in the process because she truly believed that her sister would rather be dead than a blood-coated monster.

After all, she was having a hard enough time making through this nightmare and she was in full control of her body. It must have been ten times worse for Dawn, who didn't even have that. If she had been the one stuck inside a Terminator body and forced to follow the directives of her slave master, she'd want someone to put her out of her misery too.

So just like time was running out on this mission, so too was it running out on her faith in her friends.

Wincing a bit as a burst of semi-auto fire managed to injure her left shoulder, she brought her mind back to the present before firing her handgun in the direction of the shots that'd hit her. This late in the game she wasn't too worried about the injury since they'd be aboard their extraction craft soon enough. Using her Solid Eye, she decided to fire off the rest of her ammo while she could since it wouldn't be needed in another four minutes and five seconds. Aiming for any solid object an inch in any direction of one of the human soldiers, she succeeded in spooking them into ducking deep behind their cover to save themselves. Keeping their heads down would be enough for the time being, especially since the Indian military had lost the last batch of their heavy weapons fifteen minutes ago. It'd been a series of close calls dodging the explosives while at the same time keeping her head together enough to prevent even one trooper from getting by her, but she'd managed. Fortunately her cyborg body was not only strong but it was also capable of moving at speeds that'd let her run up a pillar while it was still falling mid-air.

True, that was only when she activated the systems boost function of her cyborg body, but even without it she was easily quick enough to dodge just about anything with a second or two of warning.

Before much longer her SOCOM ran dry and, since her tranq gun was also lacking in ammo, that meant that it was time to get creative. Charging forward at the oncoming soldiers, she used the superior speed her body gave her to get in close and, the second a gun got within arms' reach, she ripped it from its previous owner's hands. A light, for her, anyway, swing with the butt off the assault rifle to the man's head and he was down unconscious on the ground, freeing her up to dance between his buddies to do the same thing to them. As a side benefit this would make it harder for Dawn to kill anyone since (she hoped) there were rules inside her head that forbid hurting or killing a teammate on a mission. Not that that would do much good karma-wise since her little sister had already racked up the highest kill count of the lot of them but every little bit counted where God was concerned.

She hoped!

She was about done with the final soldier when her comm. system beeped.

"Priority message to all operatives. Mission complete. Disengage. Proceed to designated extraction point. Departure time: fifteen minutes."

_YES! Time to drop this mission and bolt! _She fired one final spray of bullets at the feet of the oncoming soldiers using a 'liberated' rifle before to dropping the weapon and running for the nav point shown on her Solid Eye.

Dawn had already heard the recall and was making her way to the extraction point at top Terminator land speed but, in a moment of sibling competition she decided to make a race of it. Leaping, she took to the roof of the radar station's main building since she still remembered the class she took where Mister Peterson had told her that the shortest distance between two points was a straight line. She didn't hit the boost button yet since there wasn't any need for that but she kept it in reserve for that final length of the race just in case.

As she entered the forested area, she could spot out of the corner of her eyes the rest of the Scoobies and, from what little she could make out, they were in decent shape. They still looked like they'd had a rough couple of rounds with the Indian military but nothing that'd require major medical methods to fix. They encountered a few of their former playmates along the way but, given that these guys had trouble taking on ONE of them, they didn't do any better facing ALL of them. Add to that the speed each of them could run at and it wasn't long before all the troops were left behind either gasping for air or possibly radioing for some aircraft to keep track of them. Assuming that the extraction vehicle was the Pelican then that wouldn't do them much good once the cloak on that thing engaged.

Ten minutes later the Scoobies exited into a clearing where just as she'd hoped the Pelican was waiting for them with the rear hatch open. Piling inside like a stampede of bulls, they quickly strapped themselves in before Xander delivered two loud knocks to the wall dividing their compartment from the cockpit. The pilots heard him and a moment later they were airborne, surging forward the moment they cleared the trees.

_**Washington Hotel, Thirty Minutes Later, Samantha Carter's POV**_

The phone rang.

She hated it when this happened even though she had gotten used to it at the same time, given her long military career. A person with a career in the military was always on call and, since no one could ever predict when something would come up, that would require they report for duty. It could be the middle of the night or late in the afternoon. Regardless of when the call came they were expected to show up for work within the hour and no later.

She just hoped this was important.

Reaching over, she picked up the phone. "Colonel Carter speaking…"

"Sam, turn on the TV! Channel Twenty-Two! NOW!" General O'Neill said from the phone.

She knew instantly from the tone of his voice that something serious had happened so, with all the speed her still half asleep body could muster, she grabbed the remote control for the television and turned it on.

"To repeat: there has been a nuclear detonation in Srinagar, a summer capital of the Indian State of Jammu and Kashmir, covering a radius of forty miles," the news anchor reported with a tense look on his face. "While we are still gathering information, the death toll is expected to be over a million with many more suffering from radiation and fallout. There has been no official statement yet from the Pentagon regarding the circumstances surrounding the detonation but we expect one within the hour."

"My god! Have you heard anything, sir?" she asked, almost unable to believe what she'd just heard.

"Only a little bit more than the media knows and something from our 'overseas' interests," Jack said, sounding like something 'more' was bothering him. "Apparently the opposing side of our little 'problem', two weeks ago, showed up and, considering the timing, I think it's pretty certain that they're involved with this recent explosive development."

It didn't take even a tenth of her intellect to figure out what O'Neill's words really meant.

The assassins that were responsible for killing the IOA representatives, along with the chairman, had appeared again and somehow they were connected to the nuclear destruction in Srinagar. However it was doubtful that her former C.O. would be able to say more over an unsecure line like this and, if things got as bad as she thought they might, then she needed to get down to the Pentagon pronto.

"I'm on my way, sir!" she said, getting out of the bed and going to her suitcase to grab some clothes.

"Good. I'll see if I can figure out more before you get here. Bye!" Jack said before hanging up the phone on his end.

It took five minutes for her to get dressed, another three to get to the ground floor of the hotel and five to hail a cab that'd take her to the Pentagon. All during the drive she tried to find a pattern, a line of reasoning, SOMETHING to connect three separate incidents together and help her get a sense of what the Big Picture was so that they could start acting rather than reacting. First an attack on Area Fifty-One that destroyed everything, leaving nothing but a crater behind, then the assassination of the IOA members and now the nuclear destruction of a large part of Kashmir. The first two made her think that this was an attack on the SGC and Homeworld Security since both were connected to Area Fifty-One as well as the IOA. However this newest wrinkle, this new catastrophe, didn't fit the pattern at all… unless the goal of the operation was to finally put faces to the phantom force attacking them. General O'Neill was under pressure enough up until today to find these assassins when no one knew what they looked like and only had a general idea of their threat level.

Depending on how detailed the information was that the Indian government had, they could have everything they needed to know about the assassins, down to pictures of their faces, or they could only have eye witness accounts from the people who survived their activities there. While she knew they had to be grateful for whatever information they could obtain, it would be nice if they had something a little more than colored eye witness reports. If they had video recordings of them in action, shell casings from their weapons, or even some blood, then they could make real progress on learning how to defend themselves against this new technology as well as perhaps finding them. She still couldn't quite make herself believe that Lizzie, her cousin, was one of the assassins behind the IOA murders, so finding some kind of tangible proof would do a lot to put her mind at ease on that regard.

As the cab pulled up to the curb in front of the Pentagon, she realized that objectively she had to consider the alternative possibility: that Lizzie was one of the assassins. She hadn't seen her cousin much over the last ten years or so, both due to her duties at the SGC and the fact that there just never seemed to be a good time with the younger woman. Out of the entire ten years, she could count the number of times they'd spoken on both her hands while counting the times they'd actually seen each other on one. Still, in few those times they'd actually gotten together, nothing had made her believe that her cousin would willingly take another human life. To her that meant that if she was the assassin, then someone was forcing her to kill and, considering that Dawn had been kidnapped as well, that meant she was likely the leverage. That meant that if they were going to free Lizzie, they had to figure out where the perpetrators were keeping Dawn and rescue her. With a little luck the young woman would know where her big sister was located so they could go two for two in the rescuing department.

_Assuming there isn't some other kind of leverage involved, _she thought as she entered the elevator to take her to the second level of the Pentagon. _If that turns out to be the case, then I'll have to think up another way of rescuing the two of them._

When she finally got to Jack's office, she caught the tail end of a conversation he was having with someone else over the phone.

"And you REALLY thought that the leader of a big name arms dealer would be supervising the theft of a NUKE!?" Jack asked at the top of his voice in pure anger. "Are you THAT mentally challenged!?"

_Sounds like whatever details he's managed to dig up aren't good,_ she thought as she knocked on the door to his office.

"Come in!" General O'Neil yelled, causing her to open the door. "You better hope we can come up with some kind of excuse to feed the Indian government or you'll live just long enough to see the start of World War Three! Goodbye!"

With that the silver haired general slammed the phone down into its cradle, severing the connection and then, for some reason, he did it a couple of more times for good measure. Storming away from his desk, it was clear to her that the man needed a moment to cool down so she kept quiet until he looked rational again, which took about five minutes.

"Sorry to roust you out of bed, Carter, but we've got a real shit storm in the making here." O'Neill said after taking a deep breath.

"Well, you were a little short on the details over the phone, sir. Care to give me the whole story?"

"As you saw on TV, a little over half an hour ago a nuke went off in Srinagar, destroying the entire capital and irradiating everything within forty miles of ground zero. Normally while this would've made the news and crossed the desks of some people here at the Pentagon, mine would not have been one of them. What changed that was the fact that eight hours prior to the detonation, a major radar station hub was taken over by a team of five people and shut down." Jack replied elaborating on what he'd said earlier. "Again this wouldn't have reached my ears except for the fact that each member of this team exhibited abilities and possessed technology far more advanced than anything commonly known. Fortunately the CIA had an operative in the Indian military who happened to be stationed as a communications officer. He overheard the whole thing."

"What did he say?" she asked, eager for any information he could provide.

"Not much. He couldn't stay on the line long without blowing his cover," Jack replied, sounding a bit annoyed at that fact. "What he did say was that they managed to keep a sizeable portion of the Indian military at bay for the full eight hours with nothing more impressive than an RPG-7 at their disposal. The Indian force included gunships and armored vehicles."

"That… certainly does imply that the team was either very good or possessed a significant edge over the Indian military," she said, a bit shocked at the feat that Lizzie may or may not have achieved with four others.

"Yep. From what the agent could tell, they could move faster than any human should be capable of AND took direct hits from automatic weapons fire with barely a flinch to show for it." O'Neill sat back in his chair. "Other than that the only thing that he was able to get out before he had to hang up was that one of the team members showed signs of heavy cybernetic implants and not of the primitive kind."

"How heavy?" she asked, trying to get a grasp of things.

"Based on what he heard? Apparently all the way up to the neck." Jack replied, sounding as concerned as she felt at the moment.

That… did not bode well.

While significant achievements had been made in the last decade or so with regards to prosthetics, nothing came even close to actual physical implants, much less to the degree the CIA agent indicated. To hear that one of the possible assassins had been implanted to that degree and that the implants apparently gave the assassin such impressive capabilities implied off world technology. Nothing they'd developed through the technology they'd brought back through the Stargate even touched the area of cybernetics, much less to that degree.

"The agent said that he'd try to get ahold of some camera footage from the helmets of the soldiers or the choppers that got shot up," General O'Neill said, sounding like he thought he'd be waiting a while. "Once we have it, we can take a look and see if we can ID anyone or anything."

She'd definitely be checking in regularly with Jack to see when he got the footage so they could both watch it at the same time.

"The real FUBAR part though was when I tried to figure out what they were doing there in the first place. Obviously they were sent to take the place and shut it down but the WHY wasn't exactly clear." Jack said, sounding liking he was working himself back up. "All it did was blackout a section of their monitoring system for aircraft. So I asked around to see if anything odd was going on in that blacked out area and it was when I talked to a friend in Spec Ops that I got something. Apparently a week ago someone managed to lift a B38 nuke from a place north of Langely and they connected it to an arms dealer known as the Crimson Skull. Big VIP in those circles apparently. They tracked him down to an Indian extremist named Ganesh, who just so happened to be in Srinagar and so they sent a Spec Ops team in to get the bomb back and nab the ones involved. No one knows what happened next for obvious reasons."

"Oh god!" she gasped as she realized how badly things could go if word got out that the nuke came from the USA.

It was bad enough that so many people were killed in such a contested area between India and Pakistan but if one side or the other found out that it was a US nuke… Jack's prediction of World War Three might not be that far-fetched. Over a million people were dead and more were probably dying horrible deaths as a result of radiation poisoning and serious burns. India was going to want blood for that and, if things got heated up between them and Pakistan, more people would die turning the entire region into a furnace of conflict. If America's involvement with the nuke made it to the governments of both nations, things would get VERY bad, VERY quickly. It might take a while since neither nation had ready access to the technology needed to detect the fallout and residual elements of the explosion in order to confirm that it came from the US but it would happen eventually.

"If you're right and the occupation of the radar station hub is connected to the detonation of the B38, then it might've been the objective from the beginning to set off a global conflict." she said as dots were connected in her mind.

"Come again?" Jack asked, obviously not being as quick with the connections as her.

"Ever since the attack on Area Fifty-One, I've been trying to figure out if it was just a one-time thing or part of a larger game plan," she replied as she laid out her thoughts. "When the attack on the IOA reps happened, I believed even more that someone was working towards a bigger goal. The two attacks were aimed at a location and an organization with ties to both Homeworld Security and the SGC, resulting in pressure being put on us as well as stretching our resources out. The more pressure that's put on us, the more effort we have to put into finding the people responsible, but if the person behind it all plays their cards right, they can move about in a rush undetected."

"So you think this is all one big smokescreen?" O'Neill asked, things coming together in his mind.

"Yes. If I'm right something big is coming and whoever is behind this is just keeping us too busy to see what that something is."

"Then we need to figure out what this mysterious someone is trying to keep us from seeing," Jack said, sounding less than optimistic. "Any ideas?"

_**Ten Days Later, Farrow-Marshall Aeronautics R&amp;D Facility, Supposedly Abandoned**_

_**Northern Tip of the Rocky Mountains, British Columbia, Canada**_

_**Scooby Quarters, Giles' POV**_

"How're things going with you and 'Cortana', G-man?" Xander asked, sitting down next to him on the specially prepared bed. "Any new and exciting revelations?"

This struck him as odd.

While all of them had stuck close to each other, leaned on each other for emotional support, none of them had started a conversation quite like Xander had. Nevertheless, he decided to play along just out of curiosity to see where the conversation went in case the destination turned out to be worth the trip.

"Not really. We've mostly been spending our time debating strategy and tactics," he replied, being mostly honest with his words. "Nothing useful for our favorite scenarios but we still have variables to explore. I'm confident victory will come eventually."

"Good! Just don't be surprised if I beat you to the finish line," Xander said with his usual lopsided smile before putting his nanosuit's mask back on. "I wonder if Willow's managed to do better."

With that the young man walked towards the former redhead, leaving him to puzzle out the meaning behind the words just spoken. The obvious translation, the one that anyone listening in was supposed to hear, was that Xander was using the acquired skills and memories of Prophet to sharpen his strategy devising skills. It was not a bad way to pass the time but, if the truth was located between the proverbial lines, then the young man would know he really meant that he and the A.I. had been working on an escape plan with little success. If the nanosuit wearer was being equally subtle, then it could be inferred that the young man had hit a breakthrough with his own efforts. How big of a breakthrough it was could not be determined from the discussion moments ago but, given how little reason they had to smile these days, he presumed it to be quite big. Indeed, if he went further between the lines, he could assume that the lad intended to pass this news along to the others as subtly as he could.

It would be a big boost to morale and sooth the scars on their souls.

He was just about to get off his bed to help spread the good news when the door to their room opened and their blonde captor entered with one of her bodyguards, wheeling a television as well as a DVD player. Immediately he got to his feet and moved to place himself between the woman and Buffy in order to decrease the odds of the Slayer lunging at their tormentor. All of them had done their best to weaken the flames of hatred and rage within their friend but it was still up in the air as to whether it'd be enough when the wench was actually in the room. Recalling where Dawn had been positioned when the door had opened, he seriously hoped her older sibling would realize the danger of having an enemy at her rear, one that had proven capable of 'restraining' her before when she'd tried to attack Mayfield without a lot of difficulty.

"I trust you are all doing well today?" Mayfield asked with a smile on her face as her bodyguard prepared the hardware for use. "You had quite a trying time in India and I imagine that even with your 'enhancements' you were quite tired. That was why I waited until now to show you the fruits of your labors."

"What? You want to gloat over the killing you made with your 'merchandise'?" Buffy asked with her usual hostile edge.

"You have a way with words, Miss Summers, because killing is definitely the correct word for the situation!" Charlotte laughed before taking the DVD player's remote from her bodyguard's offering hand.

With the click of a button the static-filled screen vanished to be replaced with what looked to be a CNN news broadcast but his attention swiftly sharpened when he saw then read the headline at the bottom of the screen.

'HOSTILITIES BREAK OUT BETWEEN INDIA AND PAKISTAN'

From there it was a simple matter to listen to the news anchor as he laid out the details for all to hear.

"We have reached the tenth day of a situation that could escalate into a nuclear confrontation at any moment. It was ten days ago that a nuclear weapon detonated in the city of Srinagar, located within an area heavily contested by the governments of Pakistan and India, killing over a million of its inhabitants. However that was only the beginning of the tragedy for those that survived the blast were forced to suffer through severe burns as well as radiation exposure," the anchorman said, only briefly taking a look at the papers in his hands. "Since the initial blast, though, many have succumbed to these injuries, increasing the death toll by the tens of thousands. In the face of such horrific death, destruction and misery, there is one question that is on everyone's minds: who is responsible for this atrocity?

"Inquiries made to the relevant government departments have yielded only that an investigation is underway to answer that question but no concrete answers. We have checked with our sources in both the Indian government as well as the Pakistan government but, understandably, we were only able to get short answers to our inquiries." An image of the affected region appeared with circles showing the degree of destruction. "What we have been told is that both governments believe the other to be responsible for the detonation of the nuclear device, causing an ever-rising escalation in animosity between them. At the moment neither India nor Pakistan have officially declared war but, unless evidence can be uncovered exonerating both nations, it is the outcome our experts expect.

"The reactions of the various neighboring countries vary from openly pledging their support to one of the involved nations, to imploring them to not act until definitive proof of guilt is found. The spokesperson for the White House has made it clear that America will make every effort to give humanitarian and medical aid to those affected by the blast. Aid will also be provided to uncover who is responsible for this terrible loss of life, with every resource being utilized to this end. We will bring you more as the story develops."

The recording ended returning the screen to static but both he as well as his former charges were too overcome with shock as their minds connected their previous mission to the event described by the news broadcast. A part of him wanted to believe that the entire thing was fake and that it had been created for the sole purpose of making them all suffer but his more realistic side knew it to be the truth. The 'merchandise' that Mayfield had asked them to help in delivering had been a nuclear weapon and, for reasons unclear, it had been detonated in one of the world's most heavily contested regions. Had the woman sold the nuclear device to terrorists? Representatives of either government who wished to take violent action? He did not know but the bottom line was that, however ignorant they were of the details, they had helped kill over a million people.

With his mind so overwhelmed he imagined that it was only because of Cortana/Jenny that he was still standing since he didn't think he was focused enough to stand at the moment.

The others, with the exception of Dawn, didn't have that problem as he saw Willow and Xander drop to the ground, with disbelief on the former's face. Even with all they had done, all the lives they'd been forced to take since entering into Mayfield's employ, they had clung to the belief that it was not impossible to atone for the deaths they'd caused. Now… now they were faced with a number that was beyond comprehension for them because just how easy could it be for a person to visualize over a million human beings?

"Business will truly be booming for the next few years," Charlotte Mayfield said, sounding overjoyed at the fat contracts she'd sign with one of the involved governments. "It'll be nice to have such generous customers."

Customers?

She was going to sell weapons to BOTH countries?!

It was then that a combination of his own analytical mind and John's ability to discern the truth relating to matters of war that revealed a possibility that made his earlier shock pale in comparison. Shock that swiftly turned to barely controlled rage as he soon began to wish that there was someone strong enough to restrain him because his self-control was being put to the test at the moment.

"You did it. Didn't you?" Xander asked with a voice that could freeze the sun.

"You'll have to be more specific with the 'it', Agent Prophet." Mayfield said with all but her eyes looking puzzled. "I've done a great many things."

"You detonated the nuke. It wasn't terrorists, criminals or soldiers that set it off," Xander said, keeping his chilly tone of voice. "Either you pressed the button yourself or whoever delivered it started the countdown before getting out of range of the blast."

"Ah! I understand now. As to your inquiry it was more the latter than the former," she replied, not looking or sounding the least bit guilty. "I gave the order to enter the code for the countdown to begin to the subordinate on site not long before giving the order for your team to withdraw."

"YOU MONSTER!" Buffy exclaimed in fury but, surprisingly, this was not accompanied by action. "DO YOU EVEN CARE THAT OVER A MILLION PEOPLE ARE **DEAD** BECAUSE OF YOU!?"

"If by 'care' you mean did I cry myself through an entire box of Kleenex or empty a bottle of expensive liquor, then no I did not," Mayfield replied, sounding completely unconcerned. "My only concern is that the action produces the results I desire and, unless something dramatically stabilizing occurs, I believe it will."

"Results?" Willow asked, sounding as though all emotion had left her.

"War. Glorious, profitable war," Mayfield replied, dollar signs practically glowing in her eyes. "Both Pakistan and India will pay through the nose to get their hands on the latest in weapons technology and I plan on supplying both sides. Oh, I'll be smart about it, of course, start with one before being 'swayed' or 'blackmailed' into arming the other side, and then 'courageously' seeing the error of my ways and returning to my original client. I actually have a political analyst, a psychologist, a sociologist, a fiction writer and an astute conspiracy theorist mapping out how to get the most out of both nations as we speak. I believe the first draft will be ready by the end of the week for my perusal."

"You… set off a nuke… and potentially started a war… for MONEY!?" Xander asked, finally showing some fire through the cracks of his icy emotional mask.

"No. Not for money. For A LOT of MONEY," Mayfield replied with a bit of humor to her tone. "We're talking in the billions here, young man. True, those two countries would probably have gone to war sooner or later without my involvement but I prefer a more hands on approach to making a profit. Why wait for the Fates to get things rolling when you can do it yourself, right?"

At that moment he believed he was safe in assuming that everyone with even a shred of morality wanted to make the woman suffer for a month before finally killing her. Like him, though, they realized that an attack now would likely end in failure because the woman wasn't stupid enough to walk into the proverbial lion's den, poke said lions with a stick and not take precautions. Indeed, unless his eyes deceived him, the woman had one hand in her pocket and, given the shape of the bulge, likely had a remote of some kind inside. The remote was likely set to trigger the pain inducing implants, meaning the 'businesswoman' could likely drop all four of them with half a second's warning.

DAMN IT ALL!

"Now I suggest you all relax and get as much rest as possible," Mayfield said as she turned to leave. "I have your next mission almost ready for you. I'm just waiting on a few pieces of information to reach my hands before sending you off. Ta, darlings!"

With that the woman left and her bodyguard followed close behind, shutting the door on his way out.

"Patience guys," Xander said, sounding like he was having difficulty with the concept himself. "Patience. Patient people will get rewarded and sometimes sooner than they expect."

He knew that the young man meant he almost had a cure for their collars but patience was a little hard when every day that went by meant more dead innocents.

Nevertheless, all would do their best because in the end that was all they could do.

For now.

_**Homeworld Security HQ, Ten Days Later, Early Afternoon, **_

_**Lieutenant General Jack O'Neill's POV**_

_I swear it's days like this that I wish Hammond had court marshaled me after we took out Apophis' two mother ships!_ he thought as he picked up another 'intelligence report' but not expecting much from it.

He'd read so many dead end reports he could probably predict what they were going to say word for word by now. The only piece of information he didn't have, the one he really wanted, was whatever the Indian government had on the group that took down then occupied the radar station. He wanted it because it would not only help in preventing any future FUBAR situations but it'd also put to rest any doubts Carter might have about her cousin. He could see it written all over his former second in command's face whenever they saw each other, that not knowing for certain what Lizzie was up to was tearing her up inside. Sure, they had a lot of circumstantial information saying that the cousin he'd never met was involved in the mess they were dealing with but nothing concrete like a picture or a recording from a video camera. As long as that little bit of uncertainty existed, Carter wouldn't be able to completely focus on any task she was given and that could lead to problems down the road. Distracted people tended to make mistakes and distracted genius scientists tended to make BIG mistakes that could cost them a lot.

He'd called in what favors he had to be kept apprised of everything the spy in India managed to uncover or send back home but that'd been precious little so far. With the Indian government up in arms over the nuke, they were upping the security all over the place to catch spies, bombers and people like that before they could do anything. That made things a little difficult for any undercover operative to phone home, especially since the penalty for being caught was probably a bullet. When added to the fact that the people higher up the chain of command were still sweating bullets about whether or not the truth would come out about the nuke being American…

So far they were alright in that neither government, Indian or Pakistani, were making subtle or blunt comments about the US being involved in the blast. He figured that the people in charge of coming up with cover stories were probably destroying some evidence, fabricating other pieces of evidence and generally doing everything they can to give America plausible deniability. Lord knew it'd be better than the truth which was that someone stole a nuke right out from under their noses, tricked them into thinking an arms dealer did it and had a spec ops team next to the bomb when it blew. He still wanted to know how the hell they'd been that close and not been able to stop it from going off because the intel he had so far said the thing wasn't rigged for remote detonation. Someone would've either had to type in the activation code with the spec ops team in the room or started the countdown timer before the soldiers got there. Neither scenario smelled right but, without more intel to work with, no one could come up with a clearer picture of what'd happened.

His computer beeped repeatedly, causing him to turn to see that someone was trying to vid-conference with him and, when he checked out who it was, he almost left his office on the spot.

It was McKay.

The man was without a doubt one of the smartest people on the planet who was in the know about aliens and everything the SGC was involved in but he was also an arrogant asshole who never failed to rub everyone's face in how smart he was. Still, the fact that the man was asking for a vid-conference interested him enough that he decided to stick around rather than flee his office in terror. The man had been working on the Easter egg left by the assassin that'd killed Strom non-stop since he'd gotten a hold of it but so far hadn't been able to crack it open. If that'd changed it could prove to be the big break that they'd been hoping for and that was worth putting up with McKay's usual cocky attitude. Clicking on the right icon, he waited while all the necessary encryption and security software fell into place before a window opened showing Rodney's face. The man looked like he'd barely slept or ate since he'd started working on the Easter egg but the smile on his face was encouraging.

"What's up, Doc?" he asked, deciding to take advantage of the positive energy present.

"Very original, Jack," McKay replied, like the quip was amateurish. "Just thought I'd let you know I've finally cracked the Easter egg. It was tough, whoever designed it was good, but I am just that much better."

"So this egg have something interesting inside or is your beating it all we have?" he asked, deciding to skip the casual chit-chat for now.

New info on the assassins had to take priority.

"After cracking open the egg the only thing I found was a name. Charlotte Mayfield," Rodney said, sounding like he had a little more to reveal. "However with all the time I spent trying to open it, I managed to confirm one more thing. I think I know who made this particular Easter egg."

"Who?" he asked, eager for anything that could help them make some progress.

"The design and the framework matches an old hacker acquaintance of mine. Her name…well, I assume it's a she… can't be sure with cyberspace and all… was RedWitch01. She's been an active hacker since the late nineties and has managed to get into some rather impressive places," McKay said, sounding like he was talking about a potential protégé. "It wasn't until early two thousand that her skill was at a level where I'd entertain going a few rounds with her to humble her a bit. Getting cocky is what gets a lot of hackers caught and thrown in prison for twenty-five to life."

"Heaven forbid she not heed your superior experience," he said, implying that the man was cocky himself.

"Whatever. Anyway, it wasn't until three years later that she got good enough for me to actually take some of her challenges seriously. We kept in touch after that, exchanging tips and proposing challenges, even managed to send each other a few Christmas presents, daring each other to try to track the packages back to their source." McKay now sounded like he was referring to a friend and that was impressive given the man's personality. "Naturally things dropped off after I joined the Atlantis expedition but when we started getting mail every so often, I managed to convince a friend to act as a go between. Bottom line? This is her work without a doubt. Every hacker has their own style and signature when it comes to programming and this is hers for certain."

"You ever get close to figuring out who RedWitch01 was when she wasn't sitting in front of a computer?" he asked since a real name would be easier to run a search on than hacker alias.

"I was able to trick her into revealing that she was one of the survivors of the Sunnydale Sinkhole and that she'd left the country soon afterwards but nothing else. If we check for female survivors with a high IQ, we might be able to narrow down the possibilities," McKay said, sounding minimally annoyed that he couldn't give a name for his friend/protégé. "Another thing I noticed was that the Easter egg looked like it was put together in a rush. Still tough to crack but the weak spots I used to open it up were things she would've known to protect. Makes me think she did it in a hurry, maybe even a couple of minutes before she started reducing the blue blood population, and that does not sound like someone who'd planned to do it from the beginning. More like someone who thought of it at the last minute and did a rush job."

"You think she's trying to slip something past her 'new boss'?" he asked as a picture began to form in his mind.

"Probably. If her new job is closely monitored then she wouldn't have had the time to put together a quality piece of programming. Even doing something like this might've been a big risk." McKay replied, nodding in agreement with the possibility.

"Sounds like whoever her boss is, they aren't the trusting cuddly type," he said, linking this with what was suspected about Lizzie. "Go online and check with the rest of the hacker crowd. See if any of them have more current info about your friend or any idea who she really is."

"Already put out a few requests but I wouldn't expect much," McKay said, sounding like his opinion of those he contacted was barely what could be called respectable. "They aren't in RedWitch01's league."

"Better than nothing. Now if you don't mind, I've got paperwork to get through," he said, sounding like he was open to ANY reason not to go back to the paperwork.

"I'll let you know if something relevant comes up. Bye," McKay said before terminating the vid-conference at his end.

It was beginning to come together.

All of it.

Charlotte Mayfield was the host of a Goold that'd worked under Ba'al at Farrow-Marshal Aeronautics but, ever since the amnesia bit with Vala, there'd been no sign of her. Athena, the name the snake head chose for itself, was still on the 'locate and capture' list for the alphabet agencies and, through the IOA, other law enforcement agencies were also keeping an eye out. Still, he knew that finding her had probably been delegated down the ladder since nothing tangible had been found lead-wise in a long time.

_If that Snake Head's the one calling the shots, she'll hit the SGC and NORAD soon enough._ He picked up the phone and began to dial Sam's number. _Here's hoping she's got that countermeasure she was talking about last time running._

When he got off with her he'd put things in motion to have security at Cheyenne Mountain increased for at least the next three months, if not a bit longer.

_Just when you think you'd seen the last of 'em, one more slithers out from under her rock!_

_**Thebes, Greece**_

_**A Medium Sized Mansion on the Outskirts**_

_I see my brother hasn't lost his taste for large, temple-like structures,_ she thought, looking at the mansion that appeared very much like an upgraded version of the places that once had a great deal of traffic going through them. _I hope he doesn't make all his guests do the same sort of things or else he isn't going to have this place very long._

Her brother was still going by the name Adrian, thankfully, so that'd make things easier than they otherwise would've been. She had been tracking him down for a while now and it'd only taken longer since using magic would've only alerted the man that she was looking for him. They might be family but at the same time they rarely agreed on anything and that included how best to go about their shared specialty. She preferred a more strategic and well thought out approach while Adrian preferred to just charge in, kill them all and leave others to clean up the mess. Still, the few times that they actually agreed with one another were rather impressive to behold with few if any, enemies proving strong enough or smart enough to hold out for very long. However those days were gone and even if what she dreamed of came to pass, it was unlikely that either of them would be able to intervene directly as they once did.

The battle to come belonged to the young and it would be them that emerged victorious or fell before the coming storm.

Walking up to the front door, she pressed the doorbell and waited to be admitted into the mansion so she could speak with her brother. It didn't take long for footsteps to approach the door but, when it opened, she had to restrain her initial reaction to what she saw since being honest would not likely help her. Standing before her, wearing an outfit that could only have come from a sexy roleplay website, was a fairly attractive maid with a pasted on polite smile combined with a look of inquiry.

"Yes? May I help you?" the maid asked, no doubt to determine if she should admit the person in front of her.

"I wish to speak with Adrian. We're OLD friends," she replied, wondering if her brother would ever accept that the 'good old days' were long gone. "If he asks, tell him Anita is here to see him."

"Oh, yes! He's actually been expecting you for some time now," the maid said with a look of recognition before stepping to the side. "Please come in."

_He's been expecting me?_ she thought as she remembered the days following the dream. _Have I grown that rusty or did he simply have the same dream as I and anticipated that I would visit? I will find out soon enough I suppose._

As she followed the maid to where her brother was located, she cast her gaze about the immediate area, appraising what she saw while also comparing it to what had been present during her last visit to her sibling's home. Much of it was the same, with a smattering of weapons mounted on the wall mixed every so often with a painting of a battlefield that held special meaning, most likely for Adrian. While not as serious about it as her brother, she too had mementoes of past battles and dead friends spread out through her more secure homes. In this way they were not all that different from everyone else on the planet: nostalgia was attractive and memories tended to fade without visual aides to keep them sharp. What made her different from her brother was that he made sure that every weapon hung on his walls were in perfect working order so that they could be used in a real fight at a moment's notice. Considering how hard it likely was to find parts or, in some cases, the right maintenance equipment, it must have cost him quite a bit.

Eventually they reached a room and, once the doors were pushed open by the maid, she got her first look at her brother in a long time.

As expected the maid wasn't the only one wearing attire chosen by the gutter portion of her sibling's mind since two other young, attractive women were wearing similar clothes. One looked to be a lady butler while the other appeared to work in the kitchen if her cook outfit was anything to go by. She had to wonder what Adrian was paying them in order for the ladies to put up with his chauvinistic tastes but none of them seemed too uncomfortable, so she had no choice but to believe that they were willing employees.

_Best make this quick,_ she thought, keeping her opinions to herself. _I would rather not find out what outfits he chose for the stable workers out back._

"Sister! Long time no see!" Adrian exclaimed, putting down his wine glass as he got out of his chair to meet her. "How long as it been? Ten? Twenty years?"

"Seventeen, actually. I was supporting the Americans while you were whispering in the ear of that mustached fellow," she replied, remembering clearly the last time they'd seen each other.

"Oh yes! Pity the fool didn't listen to me more. Things might've turned out very differently for him if he had," Adrian said with a disappointed tone before it vanished. "In any case, I presume you're here about 'The Dream'."

"If you're referring to the one that bodes ill for the world, the one I believe is a vision of things to come, then yes that is the reason I have come," she replied, getting confirmation as to how her sibling knew she'd come. "Despite our differences, I think we can both agree that sitting this one out would not be wise by any measure of the word."

"Indeed. I have to say I was quite surprised with what I saw," he said as he stood before her. an intrigued look on his face. "I had thought those worms all but gone but it looks as though this one might just breathe new life into their corpse of a system."

"Worm? You mean…" she said with a bit of surprise as she connected the word 'worms' to the only race her brother had ever used the term for.

"Ah… I see that you did not perceive as much of the truth of the dream as I did, sister. Quite the slip up for one who was once hailed as the wiser of the two of us," he said, amused by getting one up on her. "Yes. It's them. The one using your name to be precise and it looks like she has some grand plans indeed. Not sure how she could get her hands on such advanced weapons and soldiers but I'd look up Janus if I were you. He did something rather impressive awhile back and, if I'm right, it's similar to his old Halloween trick."

_Yet another of father's trysts come back to bite us in the ass!_ she thought angrily as she recalled her half-brother's past antics. _The fool will doom this entire world with his games!_

"I agree with your disposition, sister," he said, sounding displeased as well. "While war is a nice thing to have, it is only interesting when there's some question as to who will win. Unchallenged, your worm counterpart will have little trouble conquering this world as well as any other she sets her eyes upon. Still, hope remains to turn things around."

Now Adrian had her full attention for, while the dream had told her of the danger to come, it had not revealed to her a means to counter the war to come.

Not successfully, anyways.

"When I sensed Janus' power at work, I used the resources at my disposal to find out who he changed and how he'd changed them," he said before walking over to a folder on a nearby table. "A worthy group with two of my favored among them. If they can be freed from their shackles, they will be just what the worm's enemies need to stand in her way."

Taking the folder, she opened it up to reveal the faces of people she did indeed know and at once she shared her sibling's appraisal of the situation.

If these five could be freed from the Goa'uld's control, they would be the seeds that would lead to her symbiote counterpart's defeat.

"I don't suppose you have anything else to share?" she asked, not interested in being fed useful information drop by drop.

"A plan and… an idea," he replied with a smile that spoke of future amusement. "That is if you're up to joining forces with me. One more time?"

For a moment she dreaded what her sibling had in mind but, then again, when they did manage to work together towards a common goal, the odds of success did go up.

"Very well, brother. One more time," she replied with a nod of her head. "Just try not to get too carried away this time. We're to save the planet along with everyone on it, not burn it to a cinder for your own amusement."

This time her brother rolled his eyes, understanding where the last statement had come from and apparently exasperated at being reminded of it once again.

She, however, would keep reminding him however many times it took in order for it to sink in.

It was her duty as his sister, after all.

_**Eleven Days Later, Cheyenne Mountain, Tech Lab, Late Evening, Carter's POV**_

"C'mon…C'MON…" she muttered as she tried to overcome the latest problem in her efforts to prepare the SGC for the attack to come.

KRZAP! POOF!

"Dammit!" she exclaimed as the device she'd been working on shorted out and smoke rose from inside.

Out of frustration more than anything else she picked up the stubborn device and threw it across the room and into the wall, not damaging it much but the impact made noise. The moment it'd left her hands, though, she knew that she shouldn't have lost control like that but she couldn't shake the feeling that she was running out of time. Ever since she'd seen the first news report on the detonation of a nuke in Srinagar, she'd known that they were entering the end game of whatever grand plan had been put into motion. She'd become even more certain when she'd learned what Rodney had managed to uncover from the Easter Egg in Strom's computer since even the most patient of Goa'uld would turn their gaze to the SGC eventually. Even with all the ships they'd made, Gate travel was still the main means they had for getting people from one end of the galaxy to the other to do whatever needed to be done. If Athena managed to inflict heavy damage on them, it'd be weeks, if not months, before they could resume operations, leaving the former subordinate of Ba'al with time to do god knew what out there.

None of their satellites in orbit had detected anything that could be considered unknown ships coming and going but, with cloaking technology, there was always the chance that something had slipped past them. When added to the fact that Athena had the resources of The Trust at her disposal and it was possible that undercover agents were sneaking items from off world out of the mountain somehow. However the woman was doing it, no one doubted that space was somehow involved in the grand scheme that the false goddess had come up with because Goa'ulds were never satisfied with just one planet or even one system. The only real question was would Athena conquer Earth before turning to the stars or would she somehow leave Earth with the new technology she'd somehow uncovered only to return later with an army at her back.

She didn't have an answer for that so instead she focused on making sure the defenses were ready for Athena's strike time… ready for Lizzie.

Jack kept her apprised of anything new he learned about the occupation of the radar station as well as any other place where the team of five were thought to have been involved, but still there was no concrete proof saying that her cousin was involved. All they had was her father's story and the similarities with the dead Chinese representative, thus leaving her with one annoying splinter in her mind. It was one of the driving forces behind her efforts to develop defenses against cybernetically enhanced enemies because she was doing her best to make it non-lethal. It wasn't easy and she knew that if it wasn't for the friends in high places, her orders would be to focus on stopping the enemy, not taking them down alive. To the people in the Pentagon and probably the White House, the team that'd attacked Area Fifty-One, that'd assassinated the members of the IOA committee and played a part in the Srinagar blast were the enemy and deserved no quarter.

_If I screw this up, they'll reassign the job to someone else,_ she thought as she tried to release the frustration and anger she felt. _Someone who won't care about taking Lizzie alive. I won't let that happen!_

"Well, you won't get anywhere with that," came a voice she did NOT want to hear at the moment.

Turning her head to the doorway of the lab, she saw one Rodney McKay looking like he was a bit amused by the scene he'd walked in on. Her relationship with the man was a mass of contradictions, with her acknowledging his intelligence as a scientist on the one hand while being very irritated with his arrogant and condescending way of treating most people. Eventually they'd managed to develop what could be called a friendship but that still didn't make the man any less irritating when he spoke sometimes.

"Repurposing the anti-Prior device to work on cybernetics and electronics is proving to be more challenging than I thought," she said with a bit more bitterness than she'd originally intended.

"So when our five friends show up, you want to block their ability to command their machine parts. Hmmm… an efficient answer," Rodney said as he walked across the room and picked up what she'd been working on. "I'm guessing that you're having trouble synchronizing the energy meant to disrupt the bio-tech connections with radiation meant to disrupt their electronics? Tricky business but it's your lucky day! I am officially free and unassigned, so with a little collaboration we should have this resolved by morning."

She couldn't help but roll her eyes a bit at the man's ego.

_Please, I'm Rodney McKay, difficult takes a few seconds. Impossible, a few minutes._

That was what Major Shepppard had told her Rodney had once said to Malcolm Tunney of Kramer Innovations during the botched presentation of a space-time matter bridge. It summed up Rodney's entire opinion of himself and, while she'd be lying if she said the man wasn't brilliant, he could certainly stand to be more humble about it. Still, she knew that the likelihood of that was about the same as hoping that world peace would be declared tomorrow, so she decided not to waste energy on trying to change the guy. Instead she chose to look on the bright side of things and that was that she now had some additional help that hopefully would reduce the amount of time it'd take to get the SGC's defenses operational.

"I think that's a bit optimistic but, if you're willing to help, then I'm not going to turn it down. Without any idea of when Athena will send her team, we need to get this up and running ASAP."

McKay looked a little disappointed by the lack of her usual reaction to his words but shrugged it off before bringing the anti-Prior device she'd been attempting to modify over to the work table so they could get busy. For the next several hours the two of them went at it, with one or the other going for coffee when necessary but never really stopping what they were doing. Peripherally she knew things were going smoother since, with a second pair of eyes helping, they could catch mistakes before they happened, saving them time on replacing parts or resetting systems. It didn't diminish the difficulty of the overall task of modifying the device to work on electronics and cyborgs but it made her more optimistic about the odds of getting everything ready in time.

"So what do you think about all this?" she asked offhand as they took a break while waiting for some results to get back.

"You mean the crater where Area Fifty-One used to be and everything after that?" he asked, to which she nodded. "Well, it's horrible, sure, but at the same time I'd love to know they pulled it off. I mean, all I've seen is second hand stuff and clips from a helicopter, but from a scientific point of view it's fascinating."

"Yeah. I felt the same way," she said before taking a sip of her coffee. "It just pisses me off that it's being used this way!"

"As opposed to what the boys in the Pentagon would probably use it for?" Rodney asked rhetorically, with a bit of cynicism. "Let's face it, Sam. There isn't a piece of tech in the galaxy that the military won't try to turn into a weapon. Assuming we capture this team, make them tell us everything and maybe even take control of Athena's headquarters, the brass is going to think of weapons first."

She didn't want to think of it that way but she had to admit that, after being hit so hard, the generals and the admirals that ranked above her would focus on increasing their military strength before considering the possible benefits to civilians. From what they'd learned of the advancements the team of five had, she could think of many ways it could help those that'd lost limbs in accidents or on the battlefield. Sure, progress had been made with prosthetics over the years but they were still well away from making one that was just as good, if not better, than what'd been lost. She was sure that there were many other technological marvels present in Athena's group with a lot of them having beneficial applications in the civilian sector. However until the military and the government were satisfied that they'd gotten the most out of the new technology to make everything secure again, the common man would just have to wait.

"True. Still, it'd probably be for the best," she said as she dropped her empty paper cup into the nearby waste basket. "We've seen how dangerous this technology can be in the wrong hands. Until we can protect people from anyone who'd abuse it, it'd be too reckless to just release to the public."

"As long as they assign me to reverse engineer it all, I don't mind." Rodney said, sounding like he was looking forward to it. "Who knows? Maybe they'll assign both of us to the job."

"We have to catch this team and turn the tables on Athena first," she said, trying to bring the man back into the here and now. "Let's stay focused on that and worry about the rest when we get there."

With that they went back to their work on modifying the anti-Prior device to do what they wanted it to do, all the while hoping that they'd finish before it was too late.

_**One Week Later, **__**Farrow-Marshall Aeronautics R&amp;D Facility, Supposedly Abandoned**_

_**Northern Tip of the Rocky Mountains, British Columbia, Canada, Briefing Room**_

_**Xander's POV**_

"Another group mission? What does she want now?" he grumbled as he waited for their jailer to pop onto the screen. "Bomb a church? Mutilate some babies? Literally decapitate everyone in the White House and stick their heads on the fence outside?"

"Shut up, Xander!" Buffy growled with a slightly off look in her eyes. "Don't give the bitch ideas!"

He winced a bit but did as he was told just the same.

None of them were in good shape and that was mostly because over the few weeks Mayfield had dropped in every once in a while to let them know how things were going between Pakistan and India. At first it'd just been troop movements along the borders as well as riots that had nearly broken out in the cities of both countries, but a little over ten days ago things escalated. Both countries launched nuclear missiles at each other as a sort of pre-emptive strike against the country they believed was behind the blast in Srinagar. With such a short distance between the two nations there'd been no time for anyone to convince them to input the abort codes, so two more nuclear blasts were unleashed. The only positive thing, if you could call it that, was that both missiles had been aimed at where the opposing nation stored the rest of their nuclear arsenal. There were still scattered military bases with nukes but, as of ten days ago, the damage done by the missiles had taken priority as millions more had died while others clung to life by a thread in various hospitals. One news anchor had even said that, as a result of the nuclear fallout, everything within a hundred miles of ground zero of each blast was completely uninhabitable. Clouds covered the skies there in every direction and, with all the dirt and debris launched into the atmosphere, things could only get worse.

In the days that followed both nations looked to be setting aside a nuclear solution to their problems and were now preparing to use more conventional means to strike down their perceived enemies. Naturally the rest of the world was divided on how to handle the situation and, because of this, no real course of action had been decided upon. Some nations were throwing their support behind Pakistan or India, others were doing everything they could to keep full out war from erupting and some didn't see it as any of their concern, so they stated that they wouldn't get involved. The last news report they'd been shown made it look like unless the truth was exposed, that Mayfield had been behind it all, even more people were going to die.

Deaths that he and the Scoobies were at least partially to blame for due to the role they played at the Indian radar station. He knew he felt every single one of them that he became aware of and he doubted that the others felt them any less than he did. He had no doubt that he'd be spending the rest of his life atoning for the lives lost because of him but even after he died he just couldn't see himself entering heaven. Thanks to Mayfield, each of the Scoobies had racked up a kill count that usually would be reserved for entire armies and he couldn't think of anything any of them could do to atone for it all within the standard human lifespan. Some might point out that, thanks to their 'enhancements', they'd live a lot longer, but he knew it wasn't a certainty for any of them. All of them were susceptible to fatal injuries and some of them, without proper maintenance, would break down on their own. Seeing as how none of them would rely on Mayfield for that maintenance, the only other option would be whichever country or organization that chose to shelter them. Depending on the resources of either, the normal human lifespan might be stretching it a bit.

The flatscreen turned on to reveal the face of the one person they could all agree on to hate. "Well, boys and girls, you'll be happy to know that after this mission you'll be able to enjoy a six month long vacation. Maybe even let you go someplace, albeit chaperoned, of course," Mayfield said, sounding like she thought that they were the loyal employees and she the benevolent employer. "For now, though, here is your next target."

With that a picture appeared in the upper right hand corner of the screen, showing a tunnel leading into a mountain with military personnel scattered about. Normally this wouldn't be very informative except for the words that adorned the arch of the tunnel: Cheyenne Mountain Complex. There was only one target he could think of that Mayfield would want taken…

"You want us to take out NORAD!?" Willow exclaimed, clearly questioning the sanity of their 'boss'.

"Of course not," Mayfield replied, as though the idea was ridiculous. "Destroying the facility would only inconvenience the American government since they'd need to relocate the location's responsibilities elsewhere. Your objectives will be twofold. First you will infiltrate the bunker command center of NORAD and upload a specially prepared virus into their systems that will throw it along with all connected systems into chaos. It won't matter if it's in the mountain or on the other side of the country, the result will be the same. To that end a paralytic gas has been added to the armory to aid you in achieving the objective with minimal interference. Blueprints of the facility procured through secondary sources will be provided with various entry points highlighted for your benefit.

"The second objective is one thousand meters beneath Cheyenne Mountain and is one of the most heavily kept secrets America possesses. It's called Stargate Command and, once you're done with NORAD, you are to descend to the SGC's level and bring back items of interest," Mayfield said with a no nonsense tone of voice. "Pictures of items of high value will be included with the blueprints of the facility. Kill no one on your way in but feel free to do so on your way out. This will be as much a test of your stealth abilities as it will be completing your objectives. You'll be dropped off via Pelican on the opposite side of the mountain. I'll leave it to the five of you to devise a plan to complete both objectives however be aware that with Fort Carson close by, you'll be up to your waists in infantry soldiers of all sorts if you waste too much time. Best of luck."

With that the screen went blank but no one really looked away because their hate was so great for the woman that it took a minute to shake it loose.

"When is it going to be enough?" Willow whispered just loud enough to be heard by all. "When is she going to be satisfied?"

"People like her are never satisfied, sadly," Giles said, sounding tired but not yet defeated. "For everything of value they gain, their thirst for more only grows."

"Too bad the only way to cure that isn't an option." Buffy grumbled, with a look in her eye that spoke of barely restrained violence.

"Maybe, but you gotta keep the faith, Buff," he said, hoping he could convey with a look what he couldn't say in words. "Sometimes what you need can pop up when you least expect it."

He could tell that the Slayer knew he meant more than what he said but it didn't look like all the pieces had fallen into place inside her head. He wanted to say more, to tell her about last night, but without a way to keep Mayfield in the dark he had no chance of that so he'd just have to hope for the best.

Last night S.E.C.O.N.D. had finally given him a message that made him think that he might just have what they all wanted ready for deployment. He couldn't say for sure because the terms his suit used were unfamiliar to both him and the remnants of Laurence Barnes, but it did sound like the solution the suit had been working on was finished. Throughout the entire process he'd been worried about what kind of cure it was and what it'd do to them but now he felt that he had no choice but to give it a shot. The Scooby gang was at the end of its rope and couldn't afford to let the bloodshed go on any longer.

_I'll have to do it during the mission,_ he thought as he listened to Giles and the others lay out a basic plan for the mission. _Sure, the soldiers there might just shoot us on sight but, assuming we can speak, maybe we can at least try to surrender to them._

After that… he'd just have to hope that the value of having five enhanced soldiers on their side would outweigh the desire to make them all pay for the deaths they'd cause. He knew all too well from how he was feeling that vengeance was a potent compulsion and it didn't contribute much to rational thought. Still, so long as no one at Cheyenne Mountain had lost anyone close to them during the previous missions, he had hope that military professionalism and the law would keep them alive long enough to tell the whole story.

"Xander? Are you paying attention?" Giles asked, sounding mildly disapproving.

"Of course. Four of us cloak while you wait outside. Sneak inside, gas NORAD, plant the virus and when it's time to pay this Stargate Command a visit you take the elevator down to us."

This, of course, surprised Giles a bit but not enough to completely throw him for a loop.

"Yes… well, let's get to the armory then so we can acquire our equipment." Giles said now that the basic plan had been laid out for all.

There was something SO wrong about how casual it'd become for them all to consider going to the building's armory but, if S.E.C.O.N.D.'s cure worked, it'd be the last time they did it here.

They'd wind up getting used to doing it someplace else most likely but it'd still be better.

_**En Route to Chyenne Mountain, Aboard a D77H-TCI Pelican, Ninety Minutes Later**_

_**Willow's POV**_

What can I do to stop this?

It was a question she'd been asking herself ever since Mayfield had told them what their mission was and sadly the answer kept right on being the same each time she asked it.

Nothing.

When she'd been given the virus by a flunky, she'd been told point blank that any attempt to alter the virus would trigger the pain givers implanted in each Scooby, if the virus wasn't uploaded to NORAD within acceptable time frame the pain givers would be activated and if she tried to help the military defeat the virus, the pain givers would be activated. Obviously since she was the key person for this operation's first objective, they wanted to make sure she didn't get any ideas about sabotaging it. Did it mean they knew about the Easter Egg she'd planted in Strom's computer? Unlikely, since that would easily have been justification enough for the blonde to press the pain button and hold it down for half a minute. Therefore she could only presume that Mayfield believed there to be a chance that she might do something in response to the stress the Scoobies had been under thanks to the consequences of their last mission. Whatever the reasons, it meant that no hacking or computer programming solutions would be possible during this mission unless she wanted to be floored by pain the second she got started. Her feeling of helplessness, of slavery, only fueled the hate she had for Mayfield in her mind and left no question in her mind that the second she had the option she'd pound the bitch into paste.

She imagined that the others, even Dawn deep down inside, felt the same way.

Giles was probably the most level headed about it, though she did occasionally see some dark rage in his eyes from time to time. She guessed that age and wisdom had some advantages in that it helped people keep their cool better than someone half their age. At the moment the man was checking his gear for the second time since boarding the Pelican in order to make sure that everything was ready. She figured that it was a calming technique, much like how he used to clean his glasses whenever things got stressful for him. There was also the possibility of John One One Seven's training being the source of the activity since, according to Giles, the SPARTAN-IIs had been trained since childhood in how to be soldiers. She'd been shocked at this news, that kids had been conscripted into being soldiers, but Buffy had been ready to put the Halsey woman Giles mentioned in the same category as Mayfield before the senior Watcher cut her off. While not as defensive as someone that'd been brainwashed, Giles had made it clear that not only was the world fictional but that they had no right to judge the woman since they hadn't lived through the same history as she had. Buffy had argued that no circumstance justified stealing the innocence of dozens of children and turning them into killing machines.

Giles had just shaken his head at the Slayer before going silent, almost as if he'd been both amused by her position and disappointed by it at the same time.

Xander was quietly sitting in his seat, having only checked his gear once after takeoff before settling in for the trip. Contrary to what some might've thought that didn't mean that her best friend was at ease or that he was not a maelstrom of emotions himself on the inside. It meant that he knew better than to lose his head or waste energy on things that he couldn't change at the time. While some of this was likely Prophet's influence, most of it came from years as a Scooby and then later was one of the Watcher's looking for newly Called Slayers. You fight demons and travel the world, you see things that enabled you handle just about anything eventually with only a few surprises every now and then. What reassured her most, though, was the fact that there were signs that Xander might just have come up with a way to let them slip the leash and finally regain their freedom. She didn't know what it was for obvious reasons but she had faith in her friend so if his plan needed help from her, she'd give it in an instant.

Buffy, on the other hand, was a ball of barely contained emotions who'd probably jump at any opportunity to vent her fury in some manner. She was actually better now that they were en route to Cheyenne Mountain than she'd been back at Mayfield's secret HQ because at least now the Slayer had potential violence to look forward to. Stuck in the building that they'd been living in for the last month had to have felt like limbo to Buffy and that was never a good thing. Even before they'd been upgraded by Rayne's spell, Buffy had never been one to sit still because she always had energy to burn one way or another. Things had only gotten worse after the upgrades because of the amount of available energy going up and the trauma they'd all undergone since then had left each of them an emotional mess.

Excess energy and emotional duress did not a happy Buffy make.

Looking up as the lights turned green, she knew that they were beginning their descent to their drop off point so she stood up and walked to hatch in the back. According to what they'd planned out, the Pelican would decloak, land, drop them off, take off and then recloak before taking up a standby position waiting for their signal to come in. Feeling a comforting hand on her shoulder, she turned to see Xander behind her and, even if she couldn't see his face due to the nanosuit's mask, she knew he was smiling at her the way he always did to cheer her up. Giving him a half-smile back, she looked down at the techno belt each member of the Scoobies had been given, focusing on the button that'd activate it. According to the guy that'd shown them how the belts work, it worked as a combination of Thermo-Optical camouflage and something that fed false info to any sensors they came in range of. When she'd probed for details, all they'd been told was that the place they'd been breaking into had access to some out of this world tech and probably had sensors all over the place. That'd struck her as a bit strange but, considering what they'd stolen from Area Fifty-One, it wasn't completely out there.

With touchdown completed the hatch popped open, turning into a ramp, but she was already on the move the moment there was enough of an opening for her to squeeze through. Tapping the activation button on her belt, she activated the false info system while a thought activated her own camouflage. Just as they'd done in their previous missions, once they got out of the transport they moved to enter the target from multiple points of entry rather than staying as a group. Her point of entry would be a lid-covered ladder with an access code keypad attached to it but fortunately she had the access code so there wasn't much to worry about.

_Assuming that Xander does have a way to freedom ready to go, he'll probably do it sometime during the mission,_ she thought, contemplating possible chances for him to do something. _I'll have to get the virus out of the way quick so he can do his thing. If his cure works quickly enough I might even be able to neutralize the virus myself._

She only caught glimpses of the others going towards their chosen points of entry before they activated their own belts but, even so, she memorized what they looked like. To her this would be their 'before' photograph and, once Xander's method freed them all, she'd take 'after' photos to commemorate the occasion.

Indeed she had a feeling that this day would mark the beginning of fresh start in their lives and, while they could never return to what they'd been, the future might very well be enjoyable.

And for a moment she allowed herself to believe.


End file.
